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J 


1LOXHI-HV. 


IRELAND, 

AS   I   SAW  IT: 


THE 


CHARACTER,  CONDITION,  AND  PROSPECTS 

OF 

THE  PEOPLE. 


By  VVM.  S.  J3ALCH. 


My  people  are  destroyed  for  lack  of  knowledge. — Hosea. 


GEO. 


P. 


NEW-YORK  : 
PUTNAM,  155  BROADWAY. 

1  8  5  0. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1840,  by 

HALLOCK  &  LYON, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  Southern  District  of  New- York. 


170  I  ) 


W.  U.  I)i -sham,  138  Fulton-sl.,  Printer, 

AND 

TVttNKY      Brother,  !('»  Spruce od  Stereotypers. 


To 

FREDERICK    C.  HAVEMEYER, 

MY  CONSTANT  FRIEND  AND  FELLOW-TRA VELER, 
AND 

THE  WITNESS  OF  THE  SCENES  AND  PLACES   HEREIN  DESCRIBED, 

THESE  PAGES 

ARE  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED 
BY 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  VOYAGE. 

The  Preparation . — Early  Impressions. — Desire  to  Travel. — Hesitation. — 
Going  to  Sea. — Sea-Sickness. — Grandeur  of  the  Sea. — Art  of  Sail- 
ing.— Faithfulness  of  Sailors. — Their  Hardships.— Influence  of  Weath- 
er.—  Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discussions. — Sunday. — Wor- 
ship.-—Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging.       -  -  9 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  LANDING. 

Sight  of  Land. — Hailed  by  some  Fishermen. — Leave  the  Snip. — An 
Irish  Hooker.— A  Dinner. --The  Shore.— Landing. — Kinsale.— To  Cork.  29 

CHAPTER  III. 

A  DAY  IN  CORK. 

A  View  of  Cork. — A  Reflection. — An  Unexpected  Acquaintance. — Irish 
Gratitude  for  American  Benevolence. — Mardyke. — An  American 
Ship. — Weariness. — A  Lunch. — Various  Topics. — A  Car  ride. — Blar- 
ney Castle. — Reflections. — Father  Mathew. — Description  of  the  City.  44 

CHAPTER  IV. 

TO  THE  WEST  OF  IRELAND. 

A  Rainy  Morning. — Old  Castles. — The  Conquest  of  Ireland. — Ma- 
croom. — A  Living  Castle. — Mill-Street. — A  Scene  of  Wretched- 
ness.— A  Beautiful  Prospect. — Cloghereen. — Sir  Richard  Courtney. — 
Turk  Falls. — A  Grand  View, — Potcheen. — Attendants. — A  Pedlar.  71 

CHAPTER  V. 

KILLARNEY. 

A  Rural  Dwelling. — National  Schools. — Ascent  of  Mangerton. — Devil's 
Punch  Bowl. — Bachelor's  Spring. --Mountain  Bog.— A  Splendid  View. 
— The  Descent. — The  Lakes. — Dinas  Island. — Glena. — Innisfallen. 
— Ross  Castle. — Lord  Kenmare. — The  Town. — Dinner.     -  -  99 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A     SUNDAY     IN  IRELAND. 

An  Early  Walk. — A  Grand  Scene. — A  Lonely  Girl. — Character. — Dif- 
ficulties.— A  Remedy. — Sir  Richard. — Killarney  — A  Crowd. — The 
Church. — A  Little  Boy. — Leaving. — Bigotry. — A  Retrospect. — A 
Poor  Family.— Tralee.— The  Church.— The  Chances.      -  -  132 

CHAPTER  VII. 

FROM    TRALEE    TO  LIMERICK. 

Castle  Green. — A  Scene  of  Beggary. — The  Cause. — Cashin  Bog. — Lis- 
towel. — Tarbert. — Middle-men. — Condition  of  Tenants. — Stir-a- 


CONTENTS. 


bout. — A  Family. — Oppression  of  Landlords. — Emigrants  leaving 
Home. — The  Separation. — Taken  for  an  Englishman. — The  Shannon. 
— A  Steamboat. — The  Passengers. — The  Wrong  of  Vengeance. — An 
Ambitious  Mother. — A  Minstrel. — Scenery. — Glynn. — Bunrutty. — 
Social  Evils. — Useless  Agitations.     -  -  -  -  -  175 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

LIMERICK. 

Situation  of  Limerick. — A  Porter. — Railway  Station. — Scenes  of  Sin 
and  Misery. — The  Market. — Handsome  Women. —  Artillery  Bar- 
racks.— Oppression. — A  Wedding. — A  Catholic  Chapel. — Theory 
and  Practice. — "  Spitting." — The  Cathedral. — Bishop's  Court. — 
Monuments. — A  Fine  Landscape. — The  Citadel. — History. — Inter- 
view with  the  Prioress  of  a  Nunnery. — National  Schools,  their 
Changes  and  Present  Condition. — Reading  Room. — Newspapers. — Li- 
merick-Stone.— Gentry. — Beggars.    -----  235 

CHAPTER  IX. 

MORE    TALK    THAN  TRAVEL. 

Settling  a  Bill. — The  Canal. — O'Brien's  Castle. — Falls  of  the  Shannon.— 

Castle-Connel. — Tipperary. — Causes  of  Outrages. — Remedies.  

Struggles  for  Land. — Evictions. — Toomevara. —  Intimidations. — 
Landlords  at  Fault. — Good  Usage  makes  Good  Tenants. — Many 
Proofs. — American  Farmers. — Hints  for  Englishmen.  -  -  278 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  UPPER  SHANNON. 
Killaloc. — Lough  Derg. — Landing  Passengers. —  Monopolies. — Holy 
Islands. — Personal  and  Moral  Beauty. — English  Ability  to  Help  Ire- 
land.— Portumna. — Ancient  and  Modern  Works. — Redwood  Castle. 
— Victoria  Locke. — A  Beautiful  Spot. — Bennagher. — War  Establish- 
ment.— Paying  Priests. — Monasteries. — Shannon-Harbor.     -  -  305 

CHAPTER  XI. 

DUBLIN. 

A  Canal  Boat. — A  Conversation  Overheard. — British  and  American 
Valor. — Personal  Liberty  essential  to  Prosperity. — First  Principles  to 
be  studied. — Individual  and  Social  Responsibility. — The  Preparations 
adequate  to  a  Republic. — Dublin.  -----  342 

CHAPTER  XII. 

TRIAL    OF  MR.    MITCH  EL. 

A  Restless  Night. — Domestic  Affairs. — Trial  of  John  Mitchel. — The 
Court. — Mr.  Holmes. — His  Defence. --The  Excitement.— The  Military. 
— Rashness  of  the  Reformers. — Ireland  Unfitted  for  a  Republic. — Pay- 
ing the  Catholic  Clergy. — Irish  Character. — A  forcible  Repeal  impossi- 
ble.— Origin  and  Exercise  of  Power.  -----  379 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

JOURNEY    TO    THE  NORTH 
Phoenix  Park. — Cars. — Scenery. — Drogheda. — Carrickmacross.--A  Fair. 
— Monoghan. — A  Conversation. — Bally gawley. — Fintona. — Sunday. 
— Omagh. — Strabane. — Londonderry. — The  Foyle. — Giant's  Cause- 
way.— Farewell.  401 


INTRODUCTORY  EPISTLE. 


To  my  dear  Friend  : 

You  ask.  mc  to  publish  an  account  of  my  travels  in  the  Old  World,  tor 
your  gratification,  and  for  the  instruction  of  your  children.  You  flatter  mc, 
when  you  compliment  my  Letters,  and  say  you  "  want  a  book  written  in  my 
peculiar  style — plain,  familiar,  and  off-hand,  and  yet  so  minute  in  its  details 
that  others  may  see  what  I  saw,  and  feel  as  I  felt." 

You  impose  on  me  a  difficult  task,  and  one  I  feel  myself  incapable  of 
performing  to  my  own  satisfaction,  much  less  to  yours.  Still,  I  am  anxious 
to  please  you,  and  willing  to  help  amuse  your  children  ;  and,  knowing  that  you 
will  be  rather  generous  than  critical,  I  venture  to  offer  you  the  following  pages 
on  Ireland.  Whether  other  volumes,  on  other  countries,  will  follow  it,  de- 
pends upon  circumstances  not  wholly  under  my  control.  For  this,  I  bespeak 
your  favorable  consideration.  The  numerous  calls  upon  my  t;me,  the  duties 
of  my  vocation,  and  the  state  of  my  health,  have  delayed  the  appearance  of 
the  present  work,  and  prevented  me  from  doing  little  more  than  fill  up  my 
notes,  sketched  during  such  leisure  moments  as  I  could  find  while  performing 
my  journey. 

I  went  to  see  and  learn — to  gratify  myself;  and,  to  refresh  my  memory  in 
after  years,  I  made  as  copious  notes  as  possible — jotted  down,  at  the  time, 
such  thoughts,  impressions,  and  incidents  as  occurred  to  me.  I  did  not  take 
much  pains  to  reckon  time  or  measure  proportions,  in  a  way  to  give  minute 
descriptions.  Historical  and  statistical  facts  are  only  introduced  to  add  vivid- 
ness to  the  pictures  drawn.  I  traveled  neither  as  philosopher,  sage,  or  poet, 
but  simply  as  a  plain  republican,  curious  to  see,  and  anxious  to  learn  all  I 
could,  in  a  given  time. 

Of  course,  I  measured  every  thing  by  such  standard  as  I  had,  and  pro- 
nounced my  own  judgment  upon  it.  I  went  not  to  ape  the  manners  of  others 
— to  Europeanize  my  notions  and  habits — to  be  pleased  with  every  thing 
foreign,  and  dissatisfied  with  the  plain,  homespun  habits  of  our  own  country. 
Neither  did  I  carry  a  bigoted  attachment  to  the  customs  and  institutions  un- 
der which  I  was  reared.  I  went  without  prejudice,  and  under  the  influence 
of  a  principle  broad  and  deep,  which  recognizes  kings  as  companions, 
beggars  as  equals,  and  all  men  as  brethren.  I  carried  with  me  a  disposition  to 
i-tudy  the  true,  approve  the  good,  honor  the  great,  and  admire  the  beautiful. 

That  I  love  my  own  country  and  its  liberal  institutions,  and  now,  more  than 
ever,  I  will  not  deny  ;  but  that  does  not  impair  my  judgment,  nor  blind  my 
sense  ot  justice  to  other  lands  ?  Are  we  not  all  brethren  ?  Does  not  one 
Lord  rule  over  us  ?  Is  it  not  the  dictate  of  Christianity  to  rise  above  all  local 
and  national  distinctions,  in  our  estimate  of  right  and  wrong,  of  good  and 
evil  ?  Is  not  such  the  dictate  of  our  higher  nature  ?  You  will  pardon  me, 
then,  for  the  freedom  I  use.  I  write  *as  I  think,  express  what  I  feel,  and  de- 
scribe what  I  saw. 


8 


INTRODUCTORY  EI'ISTLE. 


I  own  I  have  touched  "upon  some  delicate  points,  trenched  upon  opinions  by 
sonic  held  sacred,  and  described  things  which  might  have  been  let  alone,  lor 
which  some  will  condemn,  and  no  body  praise  me.  It  is  all  the  same  to  me, 
if  I  have  told  the  truth.  Facts  will  remain,  and  my  opinions  go  for  what  they 
are  worth. 

I  gazed  with  astonishment  and  admiration  on  much  I  saw,  and  my  heart 
yearned  deeply  over  the  wrongs,  oppressions,  ignorance,  and  misery  I  beheld 
1  saw  more  to  approve  in  the  character  of  the  people  than  I  expected,  more 
to  lament  in  their  condition,  and  more  to  condemn  in  the  operation  of  aristo- 
cratic institutions.  But  these  were  undergoing  such  rapid  transformations — 
every  thing  was  so  agitated,  so  unsettled,  that  I  could  do  little  more  than  con- 
template the  past,  and  catch  glimpses  of  the  future  through  the  auguries  of 
the  present. 

I  answer,  then,  your  request,  by  these  brief  sketches  of  what  I  saw,  and  as 
I  saw  it,  and  the  reflections  suggested  at  the  time.  You  may  not  see  as  I  saw, 
nor  feel  as  I  felt.  In  honesty,  I  can  describe  nothing  different  from  what  it  ap- 
peared to  mc.  I  had  no  eyes,  no  heart  but  my  own.  You  may  dissent  irom 
my  conclusions — that  is  your  right ;  but  you  must  not  impeach  my  veracity  ; 
for  I  have  tried  to  be  faithful,  let  praise  or  condemnation  fall  where  it  might. 

I  have  been  minute — I  hope  not  tediously  so — in  all  cases  where  I  thought 
it  necessary  to  a  clear  apprehension  of  the  case  in  hand.  As  you  say,  "  the 
fault  of  many  books  of  travel  is,  they  deal  too  much  in  generalities,  describe 
great  things,  make  us  acquainted  with  castles  and  kings,  but  not  with  cottages 
and  peasants — as  if  the  writer  had  seen  nothing  humble  in  all  his  travels." 
My  sympathies  have  ever  been  with  the  "  common  people,"  and  for  their  sakes 
I  write.  I  commenced  my  journey  with  a  determination  to  pay  particular 
attention  to  the  condition  of  the  masses — to  keep  along  the  side-hill  of  life, 
so  as  to  see  below  as  well  as  above  me,  and  calculate  the  chances  for  the 
improvement  of  the  one,  and  to  amuse  myself  with  the  proud  displays  of  the 
other.  I  have  done  both — looked  on  kings  and  queens,  in  their  palaces  ;  eat- 
en "  stir-a-bout"  with  cottiers  on  the  banks  of  the  Shannon  ;  "  butterbrod" 
with  the  peasantry  of  Deutschland,  and  green  figs  with  the  lazzaroniof  Italy  ; 
and  I  have  formed  my  estimate  of  things  as  they  appeared  to  me. 

Of  Ireland,  to  which  country  the  present  volume  is  devoted,  little  has  been  writ- 
ten by  American  travelers.  I  therefore  venture  to  supply  a  work  which,  I  trust, 
will  afford  some  entertainment  and  instruction  relative  to  a  country  of  the 
character  and  condition  of  which  we  have  heard  much,  but  known  little.  Since 
the  composition  of  these  pages,  a  work  entitled  "  Letters  on  the  Condition  of 
the  People  of  Ireland,  by  T.  Campbell  Foster,"  has  fallen  into  my  hands, 
from  which  I  have  made  some  valuable  extracts,  and  appended  them  as  notes, 
to  sustain  the  positions  I  have  taken. 

I  have  sought  to  embody  just  enough  of  my  personal  narrative  to  keep  the 
reader  close  by  me,  and  let  him  know  what  sort  of  a  companion  he  is  tra- 
veling with,  that  he  may  form  a  just  estimate  of  the  facts  and  circumstances 
detailed,  and  get  a  clearer  insight  into  the  character,  condition,  and  prospects 
of  the  people. 


IRELAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CROSSING  THE  ATLANTIC. 

The  Preparation. — Early  Impressions. — Desire  to  Travel. — Hesitation. — A 
Passenger  goes  Home. — Going  to  Sea. — Dull  Weather. — Sea-sickness. — 
Grandeur  of  the  Sea. — Art  of  Sailing. — Faithfulness  of  Sailors. — Their 
Hardships. — Influence  of  Weather. — Individualism. — Infallibility. — Discus- 
sions.— Sunday. — Worship. — Freedom. — Controversy. — Encouraging. 

Ireland  occupies  a  peculiar  position.  It  is  intimately 
connected  with  the  ancient  and  the  modern.  It  properly 
belongs  to  neither.  The  ravages  of  time  have  demolished 
the  Old,  but  the  spirit  of  progress  has  not  constructed  the 
New.  Nor  can  it  be  ranked  in  the  transition  series.  It  is 
in  a  state  of  social  and  political  abnegation.  The  relics  of 
feudalism  are  found  in  abundance  among  the  mouldering 
ruins  of  its  cloistered  abbeys,  its  tottering  castles,  and  moss- 
covered  cathedrals  ;  but  are  more  distinctly  seen  in  the  ex- 
treme wretchedness  of  its  starved,  oppressed,  and  demented 
population. 

Still,  faith  espies,  as  in  a  grave-yard,  ethereal  specters 
which  shall  assume  forms  of  life  and  beauty  ;  and  hope, 
clinging  to  its  object,  is  dug  out  of  the  accumulated  wrongs 
of  centuries.  It  requires  all  the  works  of  the  former,  and 
the  patience  of  the  latter  to  endure  the  sight  of  present 
degradation  and  misery  which  abound  in  such  odious  con- 
trast with  the  physical  beauty  and  fertility  of  the  country. 

The  casual  observer  will  stumble  upon  little  to  please  him 
or  excite  his  curiosity,  except  in  natural  scenery.  Objects 


10 


RECOLLECTION   OF   EARLY  DAYS. 


of  loathing  will  meet  him  every  where;  and,  if  he  has  no 
heart  to  pity,  no  hand  for  relief,  no  far-seeing  philanthropy, 
he  will  turn  back  in  disgust,  none  the  wiser  for  having  looked 
upon  this  dark  picture.  But  if  he  desires  to  learn,  and 
has  the  ability  to  appreciate  the  actual  condition  of  a  peo- 
ple governed  too  much,  and  loved  too  little,  he  may  here 
see  the  most  indubitable  proofs,  and  cogent  illustrations, 
lie  will  find  no  difficulty  in  tracing  all  these  miseries  to  the 
curse  of  aristocracy,  and  the  social  depravity  of  the  people* 
and  will  learn  valuable  lessons  for  the  regulation  of  his 
own  conduct.    Let  us  go  and  see  it. 

THE  PREPARATION. 

In  my  youthful  days,  I  lived  among  the  romantic  moun- 
tains of  my  native  State.  My  father's  dwelling  was  situat- 
ed on  a  hill-side,  with  a  deep  valley  opening  towards  the 
south-east,  down  which  ran  a  babbling  brook,  while  along 
the  west,  a  mile  distant,  was  stretched  a  frowning  ridge  of 
mountains.  From  the  window  of  my  chamber  I  could  look 
far  down  that  valley,  and,  in  a  clear  day,  see  the  grand  Mo- 
nadnock,  at  a  distance  of  fifty  miles,  towering,  in  proud  and 
solitary  majesty,  high  above  all  surrounding  objects.  In 
spring  and  summer  I  used  to  see  the  sun  rise  up  from  be- 
hind it,  and  I  wondered  where  it  came  from.  Close  by  its 
base  lived  my  maternal  grandfather,  who,  during  his  patri- 
archal visits,  often  told  us  about  that  mountain,  and  the 
magnificent  scenery  presented  to  the  viewr  of  one  upon  its 
summit.  While  listening  to  him,  my  young  heart  burned 
with  a  desire  to  stand  on  the  top  of  that  mountain,  and 
gaze  over  all  the  world,  which  I  thought  could  be  easily 
done  from  a  position  so  lofty. 

In  the  pasture  above  the  house,  to  which  I  was  sent  daily 
for  the  cows,  there  is  a  high  rock  where  I  have  sat  with 
my  sisters,  hour  after  hour,  gazing  over  the  broad  expanse 
of  hills  and  dales,  and  drinking  in  the  love  of  natural  scenery, 
and  forming  schemes  to  travel  and  see  the  wonders  of  the 
world.  To  the  north  and  east  were  seen  the  bold  outlines 
of  the  Granite  Hills,  whose  undulatin^  summits  formed  the 


INFLUENCE   OF  SCENERY. 


11 


boundary  of  the  visible  horizon,  and  from  which  stood  up 
the  lofty  peaks  of  the  Moosehillock,  Sunnapee,  Kearsarge, 
and  Monadnock,  as  towers  upon  pictured  ramparts.  I 
wondered  what  was  beyond  them.  A  little  to  the  south  of 
the  latter  I  was  shown  the  Wachusett,  and  they  told  me 
that  not  far  from  it  was  Boston,  by  the  side  of  a  great  wa- 
ter, larger  than  all  the  land  we  could  see.  My  father  once 
went  to  that  town,  and,  when  he  returned,  he  told  us  much 
about  it ;  that  the  houses  were  made  of  bricks,  and  so  close 
together  that  one  touched  the  other  ;  that  ships  as  large  as 
the  meeting-house  were  along  the  side  of  it ;  and  that  there 
were  more  stores  than  houses,  and  barns,  and  sheds  in  all 
the  town  in  which  we  lived.  Oh,  how  I  longed  to  go  to  that 
town,  and  see  those  ships,  and  that  great  sea ! 

In  early  spring,  my  father  sometimes  allowed  me  to  go, 
with  an  older  brother,  to  the  "  sugar-lot,"  a  mile  distant,  and 
near  the  top  of  Mount  Terrible,  which  had  hitherto  limited 
my  vision  in  that  direction.  Here  was  a  fine  collection  of 
maple  trees,  from  which  was  manufactured  the  sugar  for 
the  family.  When  the  crust  upon  the  deep  snows  would 
bear  me,  and  I  was  large  enough  not  to  fear  the  bears,  and 
the  wolves,  and  the  "  quill-shooting "  hedgehogs,  I  would 
wander  off,  occasionally,  to  amuse  myself  alone.  One 
fine  morning  I  went  to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  and,  through 
the  naked  branches  of  the  forest  trees,  I  caught  indistinct 
glimpses  of  something  beyond.  I  climbed  a  scragged  spruce, 
thinking  that  from  the  top  of  it  I  could  see  where  the  sun 
went  down,  and  where  storms  of  wind,  and  rain,  and  thun- 
der came  from.  What  was  my  surprise  when  I  saw  the 
deep  valley  of  the  Wantastiquet,  and  the  main  ridge  of  the 
Green  Mountains,  stretching  to  the  north  and  south  further 
than  eye  could  reach ;  with  the  peaks  of  other  mountains 
still  beyond  !  My  eyes  wandered  in  all  directions  over  the 
vast  and  varied  scenery  with  astonishment  and  admiration. 
I  had  never  dreamed  the  world  was  half  so  large  ;  and  now 
I  could  not  see  the  end  of  it.  I  was  not  satisfied.  The 
sphere  of  my  imagination  was  enlarged.    My  soul  was 


12  FAVORITE  STUDIES. 

fired  by  a  fervent  desire — which  burns  even  now  with  in- 
creased intensity,  after  having  looked  upon  the  grand  and 
beautiful  in  my  own  country — to  overleap  the  barriers 
which  had  hitherto  limited  my  ambition,  and  to  explore, 
unconstrained,  the  new  and  wonderful  things  of  earth.  I 
wanted  to  see  where  the  sun  went  to  rest,  and  whence  it 
rose, — the  chambers  from  whose  windows  gleamed  his  ear- 
liest and  latest  rays.  I  panted  to  see  the  great  ocean,  and 
the  ships  upon  it,  and  the  town  where  the  houses  touched 
each  other. 

Behold  the  reason  why  I  am  now  seated  in  this  lone 
cabin,  with  the  Old  World  before  me,  and  my  friends  and 
country  behind ! 

Reared  among  such  scenes,  with  few  books,  and  little 
time  to  read  them,  I  early  learned  to  love  natural  scenery. 
Mountains  and  valleys,  meadows  and  forests,  the  beautiful 
and  sublime  in  nature,  were  always  before  me.  The  naiads 
and  napeae  of  my  mountain  home  danced  about  me,  and 
sweetened  my  solitude  with  their  music.  The  birds,  the 
speckled  trout,  and  the  wild  flowers  became  my  compan- 
ions. But  there  was  in  me  an  instinct  they  could  not 
charm — a  fire  that  would  not  go  out.  I  wanted  to  go  into 
the  world  and  see  it.  Every  hill,  and  tree,  and  rock,  and 
rill  had  become  familiar  to  me,  and  I  longed  for  something 
new.  With  what  profound  attention  I  listened  to  the  sto- 
ries of  those  who  had  been  about  the  world,  when  they 
talked  with  my  father  and  detailed  what  they  had  seen ! 

At  school,  Geography  became  my  favorite  study ;  and 
books  of  travel  I  devoured  with  the  keenest  relish.  Every 
place  about  which  I  read  was  mapped  in  my  mind,  and 
every  scene  described  formed  an  image  which  neither  time 
nor  care  can  efface.  To  me,  the  most  interesting  portions 
of  the  earth  were  Greece,  and  Rome,  and  the  Holy  Land. 
Around  the  last  were  clustered  the  memories  and  feelings 
awakened  by  a  perusal  of  my  mother's  Bible.  Ever  since 
I  could  read  the  Holy  Book,  I  have  longed  to  go  and  see 
the  places  where  were  performed  the  sacred  dramas  de- 


DESIRE  TO  TRAVEL. 


13 


scribed  in  its  pages ;  to  climb  over  Lebanon,  and  rest  in 
the  shadow  of  its  cedars  ;  to  wander  through  the  valley  of 
Esdraelon,  and  among  the  hills  of  Samaria;  to  wet  my  feet 
in  the  dews  of  Hermon,  and  bathe  in  the  floods  of  Jordan ; 
to  eat  fish  on  the  shores  of  Genesareth,  and  drink  water 
from  Jacob's  well ;  to  repose  in  the  cave  of  Elijah,  and 
gather  roses  on  the  plains  of  Sharon ;  to  stand  upon  Oli- 
vet, and  look  upon  the  "joy  of  the  whole  earth to  go  through 
Jerusalem,  along  the  via  Dolorosa,  to  Calvary  and  the  tomb 
of  Arimathea!  I  have  studied  hard  to  understand  its  de- 
scriptive language,  that  I  might  rejoice  in  the  blessed  truths 
of  the  Bible.  But  there  seems  to  hang  a  mistiness  about 
its  descriptions,  accumulated  by  time,  distance,  and  the  pe- 
culiar circumstances,  which  can  be  dispelled  only  by  a  per- 
sonal examination  of  the  localities  over  which  have  been  so 
long  spread  the  shadows  of  the  past.  To  see,  or  to  touch 
these  objects  and  find  them  realities,  would  remove  the  last 
doubt,  and  every  description  would  become  plain  and  forci- 
ble, and  seal  its  truth  upon  the  heart. 

Nor  was  my  young  ambition  confined  to  the  scenes  of 
Jewry,  rich  as  they  are  in  the  records  of  startling  events ; 
for  my  reading  led  me  to  classic  Greece  and  world-conquer- 
ing Rome,  around  whose  histories  there  circles  a  vague- 
ness like  that  which  has  fallen  on  the  land  of  miracles — the 
scene  of  man's  redemption.  As  one  reads,  he  desires  to 
see  ;  and  I  longed  to  visit  Mars-hill,  and  the  pass  of  Ther- 
mopylae ;  to  see  the  ruins  of  the  Eternal  city,  and  its  living 
monuments ;  to  cross  the  Alps  at  St.  Bernard,  and  hear 
M  ass  in  St.  Peter's.  The  more  modern  nations,  likewise, 
have  their  attractions — their  temples  of  pride  ;  their  galleries 
of  art ;  their  museums  of  curiosities  ;  their  libraries  of  printed 
knowledge  ;  their  old  feudal  castles  ;  the  working  of  aristo- 
cratic institutions  upon  the  condition  of  the  masses  of  the 
people  ;  these,  and  a  thousand  other  considerations,  whetted 
my  ambition,  and  led  me  to  form  a  plan  to  visit  the  Old 
World,  which  became  the  study  of  my  days  and  the  dream 
of  my  nights.    What  was  a  mere  aspiration  of  youth,  be- 

2 


14 


HESITATION. 


came  a  fixed  purpose  of  maturer  age — an  object  of  my  life, 
worthy  of  much  labor,  care,  and  sacrifice,  to  the  accom- 
plishment of  which  much  effort  has  been  directed. 

My  favored  time  has  come  at  length  ;  the  preparation 
has  been  made.  My  hesitations  have  been  overcome; — 
who  does  not  hesitate,  when  wife,  and  children,  and  friends, 
with  heaving  hearts,  and  tearful  eyes,  and  choked  voices, 
cling  about  to  breathe  a  long,  perhaps  a  last,  farewell ;  and 
would,  we  know,  though  they  say  it  not,  dissuade  us  from 
an  absence  so  long,  and  a  journey  so  dangerous  ? 

But  the  last  words  have  been  spoken ;  the  last  look,  the 
last  signal  given  ;  and  our  ship  is  floating  on  the  bay,  wait- 
ing for  wind  and  tide  to  carry  us  out  to  sea. 

GOING    TO  SEA. 

April  27. — The  feelings  of  one's  heart,  on  parting  with 
home,  and  friends,  and  country,  to  venture  upon  the  uncer- 
tain sea,  and  among  the  turbulent  commotions  of  strange 
countries,  in  times  like  the  present,  are  too  profound  and  in- 
tense to  find  utterance  in  words. ;  and  the  anguish  is 
made  keener  by  being  detained  in  close  proximity  to  those 
whom  we  have  left  behind,  perhaps  for  ever.  We  long  to 
return  and  gladden  their  hearts,  and  our  own  ;  to  light  a 
smile  where  we  last  saw  the  darkness  of  sorrow,  to  utter 
words  we  could  not  speak  at  parting.  The  excitement  of 
preparation  is  all  over,  and  the  warm  blood  curdles  about 
the  heart.  We  feel  faint,  and  sick,  and  sad.  Then  comes  the 
real  struggle ;  affection  reproving  desire ;  duty  quarreling 
with  ambition  ;  the  heart  warring  with  the  head  ;  fear 
growling  at  courage,  and  stirring  up  apprehension  to  a  med- 
dlesome interference  with  the  plans  and  hopes  of  years. 
Hesitation  points  at  assurance,  and,  like  the  forlorn  rush 
of  an  assailant  on  his  foe,  makes  a  last  desperate  effort 
to  overpower  resolution  and  control  judgment.  Oh,  the 
bitterness,  the  misery  of  such  an  hour !  Heaven  only 
has  recorded  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  my  last  night. — 


GOING  TO  SEA. 


15 


I  feel  calm  and  assured  this  morning,  and  am  only  anxious 
to  start  on  our  voyage. 

One  of  our  passengers  has  been  overpowered  by  appre- 
hension and  gone  ashore,  preferring  the  security  of  home 
to  a  voyage  across  the  trackless  deep.  He  was  a  middle- 
aged  man,  who  had  suffered  much  from  sickness.  He  had 
been  advised  by  his  physician  to  cross  the  sea,  and  he  resolved 
to  do  so  ;  but  his  heart  has  failed  him,  and  he  prefers  to  re- 
turn, at  the  forfeit  of  his  passage  money. 

At  eight  o'clock  this  morning  we  saw,  with  satisfaction, 
the  captain  and  pilot  putting  off  from  Castle  Garden  in  a 
small  boat.  All  was  ready  to  receive  them.  They  came  on 
board,  and  in  an  hour  we  were  drifting  slowlv  down  the 
harbor.  A  south  wind  coming  up,  we  were  obliged  to 
come  to  an  anchor  in  the  lower  bay,  where  we  lay 
till  night,  when  a  favorable  breeze  set  us  on  our  course, 
and  we  made  Sandy  Hook  with  a  single  tack ;  and  passed 
the  lighthouse  at  half  past  seven.  At  eight,  we  discharged 
our  pilot,  and  put  directly  to  sea.  As  long  as  we  could, 
we  gazed  through  the  darkening  twilight  at  the  receding 
shores  of  our  native  land  ;  and  when  we  could  trace  the 
dim  outline  no  longer,  nor  see  a  twinkle  of  the  beacon 
light,  we  raised  a  prayer  to  Heaven  for  ourselves  and  friends, 
our  home  and  country,  and  retired,  lonely  and  sad,  to  our 
room,  feeling  more  conscious  than  ever  of  the  littleness  and 
helplessness  of  man,  and  the  greatness  and  goodness  of  God. 

■ 

MY  JOURNAL. 

April  2d. — Yesterday  was  a  dull,  dreary  day,  light  wind 
and  little  progress.  Our  spirits  were  duller  than  the  wea- 
ther. To-day,  we  have  a  clear  sky,  a  warm  sun,  and  a 
smart  breeze.  Everything  is  cheerful,  and  we  are  happy. 
Our  affairs  are  all  arranged  for  the  voyage  and  we  begin  to  feel 
at  home.  The  Siddons  is  a  good,  comfortable  ship,  and  her 
officers  gentlemanly,  attentive,  and  faithful.  We  have 
but  four  cabin  passengers,  eight  or  ten  in  the  second  cabin, 


16 


SEA- SICKNESS. 


and  as  many  in  the  steerage.  Ample  provision  has  been 
made  to  render  our  voyage  as  comfortable  and  pleasant  as 
possible. 

May  2. — A  stiff  breeze  from  the  south  and  increasing 
towards  night.  The  sea  rolls  heavily,  and  our  ship  is 
tossed  about  like  a  very  little  thing.  One  passenger  begins 
to  complain  of  illness,  looks  pale  about  his  lips,  and  leaves 
his  place  at  the  table  vacant.  The  rest  of  us  keep  up  good 
courage,  but  with  a  doubtful  prospect  ahead. 

May  6. — Well,  it  is  over,  thanks  to  the  milder  wind 
and  calmer  sea,  and  I  am  again  on  my  legs,  staring  sullenly, 
and  in  a  stifled  rage,  at  the  impertinence  of  the  sea.  Four 
days  gone,  I  can  hardly  tell  how.  On  the  night  of  the  2d 
Neptune  stretched  forth  his  trident,  and  demanded  of  me 
a  sacrifice,  for  daring  to  encroach  upon  his  domain.  I  re- 
tired like  a  sorry  penitent  to  my  state-room,  to  do  pe- 
nance for  my  temerity ;  prostrated  myself,  and  poured  out  my 
libations  freely  upon  the  dread  altar.  I  was  horribly  sick 
for  thirty  hours.  Not  until  to-day  have  I  felt  myself  freely 
and  fully  forgiven.  One  of  our  passengers  still  lingers  at 
the  confessional. 

May  7. — Another  dark,  drizzling  day.  What  is  duller 
than  a  dull  day  at  sea ! — the  wind  lulled  into  a  dead  calm ; 
the  heavens  overcast  with  thick  clouds,  which  rest  down  up- 
on the  surface  of  the  waters  ;  the  dark  swelling  waves,  mur- 
muring mournfully  by.  The  ship  rolls  and  pitches  heavily,  her 
timbers  creaking  at  every  joint,  and  the  wet  sails  flap- 
ping lazily,  with  a  most  doleful  sound.  Oh,  the  tedium  of 
the  sea!  Its  poetry  is  all  gone.  It  has  vanished  like  the 
"  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision."  The  romance  of  the  sea  is  all 
on  shore.  Seated  on  some  safe,  jutting  cliff,  beneath  the 
spreading  branches  of  a  tree,  one  may  dream  about  the  po- 
etry of  the  "  deep  blue  sea,"  as  its  waves  come  surging  to 
the  shore  and  spend  their  fury  in  harmless  dashing  at  his 
feet.  But  this  eternal  tossing,  pitching,  tumbling,  and 
creaking,  of  "  the  house  we  live  in,"  as  if  an  earthquake 
were  beneath  us,  and  one  dash  more  would  rend  it  to 


Gil  AN  DEL"  It   OF   THE  OCEAN. 


17 


atoms,  and  send  us  to  sleep  on  coral  beds  below  ;  the  tramp 
and  bawl  of  the  sailors  over  head  ;  the  dark,  damp  atmo- 
sphere ;  the  entire  prostration  of  all  mental  vigor;  the  utter 
inability  to  read,  think,  talk,  or  write  ;  nothing  to  amuse  or 
comfort ;  every  expression  of  sympathy  construed  into  a 
desire  to  mock  one's  sufferings  ;  all  becomes  too  real,  too 
discordant  to  admit  any  play  of  the  imagination,  to  weave 
chaplets  of  poesy  with  which  to  wreathe  the  brow  of  old 
ocean.  On  such  a  day  one  gets  out  of  patience  with  him- 
self and  the  world,  and  curses  the  folly  and  madness 
which  ever  induced  him  to  exchange  the  security  and 
comfort  of  home,  the  close  communion  of  beloved  friends, 
and  the  thousand  sources  of  enjoyment,  for  the  dulness  and 
misery  of  a  voyage  across  the  sea.  But  he  who  would 
see  the  wonders  of  the  Old  World  can  not  avoid  the 
sacrifice.  Happier  is  he  who  is  content  with  the  freshness 
and  prosperity  of  the  New. 

May  9. — Encouraging.  By  the  captain's  reckoning, 
we  are  half  way  across  the  Atlantic.  The  sea  is  calm, 
the  sky  is  clear,  the  wind  favorable,  and  we  are  careering 
on  in  fine  stvle.  What  an  influence  the  outer  world  has 
over  the  spirit  of  man  !  How  close  and  intricate,  is  the  con- 
nexion of  soul  and  body  ;  and  how  inwoven  are  the  pow- 
ers which  play  upon  each  other  !  Two  days  ago,  all  was 
regret,  and  gloom,  and  apprehension.  To-day,  everything 
is  full  of  cheer,  and  hope,  and  happiness.  Nothing  but  ne- 
cessity could  force  us  backward  from  our  purpose.  The 
clouds  are  cleared  away  from  the  mental  horizon,  and  1  can 
look  upon  the  sublimity  and  awful  grandeur  of  this  vast 
wilderness  of  waters  wilh  the  profoundest  admiration  and 
delight.  Around,  above,  beneath,  are  manifest  the  mighty 
works  of  him  "  who  spreadeth  out  the  heavens,  and  treadeth 
upon  the  waves  of  the  sea.'"'  "  who  hath  gathered  the  wind  in  his 
fists,"'  and  "stilleth  the  noise  of  the  sea.  the  noise  of  the  waves, 
and  the  tumult  of  the  people.''  I  can  now  realize,  as  I  never 
could  before,  the  force  and  beauty  of  the  Psalmist's  words, 
where  he  says  :  u  They  that  go  down  tu  the  sea  in  ships, 

2 


18 


MANAGING   A  SHIP. 


that  do  business  upon  the  great  waters ;  they  see  the 
works  of  the  Lord,  and  his  wonders  in  the  deep,  for  he 
commandeth,  and  raiseth  a  stormy  wind,  and  lifteth  up  the 
waves  thereof.  They  mount  up  to  heaven,  they  go  down 
again  to  the  depths  ;  their  soul  is  melted,  because  of  trou- 
ble ;  they  reel  to  and  fro,  and  stagger  like  a  drunken  man,  and 
are  at  their  wit's  end.  They  cry  unto  the  Lord  in  their  trou- 
ble, and  he  bringeth  them  out  of  their  distresses.  He  maketh 
the  sea  a  calm,  so  that  the  waves  thereof  are  still.  Then 
are  they  glad  because  they  be  quiet ;  so  he  bringeth  them 
unto  their  desired  haven.  Oh,  that  men  would  praise  the 
Lord  for  his  goodness,  and  for  his  wonderful  works  to  the 
children  of  men." 

I  have  been  forcibly  reminded  of  the  great  goodness  of 
God,  in  giving  to  man  the  wonderful  ability  to  construct 
and  manage,  with  such  consummate  skill  and  precision,  his 
floating  home,  in  which  he  goes  securely  and  Comfortably 
across  the  trackless  deep  to  any  desired  point  of  destina- 
tion. This  result,  like  all  other  great  achievments,  has  been 
gained  by  repeated  experiment  and  perseverance.  Step 
by  step  the  art  of  navigation  has  progressed,  till  a  degree 
of  speed  and  security  has  been  attained  which  is  truly  as- 
tonishing. Could  the  present  state  of  perfection  to  which 
marine  travelling  has  been  carried,  be  compared  with  what 
it  was  a  few  centuries  ago,  when  huge  barges  went  coast- 
ing from  place  to  place,  how  wonderful  would  the  contrast 
appear  !  Who  would  say  the  world  makes  no  progress  ? 
that  everything  moves  in  a  circle  ?  that  the  present  is  no 
wiser  than  former  generations? 

May  10. — I  have  been  watching,  to-day,  the  working  of 
the  ship,  noting  the  order  and  regularity  which  prevail  in 
every  department,  admiring  the  skill  and  energy  of  the  offi- 
cers, and  the  promptitude  and  cheerfulness  of  the  sailors. 
There  stands  the  captain,  always  at  his  post,  in  defiance  of 
cold,  or  wet,  or  darkness,  pacing  to  and  fro  on  the  wind- 
ward side  of  the  quarter  deck,  till  he  has  worn  a  track  from 
the  binnacle  to  near  the  main-mast.    He  eyes  each  sail,  to 


FAITHFULNESS   uF  SAILORS. 


19 


keep  it  full ;  marks  the  least  increase  or  diminution  of  the 
wind,  and  gives  commands  to  reef,  or  unfurl,  or  set  more 
sail,  to  jibe,  or  luff,  or  wear  about  ;  anxious  to  do  every- 
thing to  speed  the  passage,  and  give  security  to  the  persons 
and  property  committed  to  his  charge.  Then  here  are  the 
under  officers,  equally  faithful  to  their  trust,  and  alike  anx- 
ious for  the  safety  and  comfort  of  all  on  board.  Then  come 
the  poor,  neglected,  and  too  often  despised  sailors,  a  rough 
and  hardy  set  of  fellows,  but  for  whose  fidelity,  and,  some- 
times dangerous  daring;  all  would  be  unsafe  and  disastrous. 
The  commands  of  the  officers  would  be  unavailing,  the  ship 
unmanageable,  the  winds  our  masters,  the  coral  reefs  our 
bed,  but  for  their  promptitude  and  courage  in  the  discharge 
of  their  duties.  The  other  night,  when  the  gale  carried 
away  our  main-top-gallant  mast,  all  hands  turned  out,  and 
were  ready  to  mount  the  rattlings,  to  clamber  out  to 
the  very  ends  of  the  yards,  while  the  ship  rolled  and  pitched 
fearfully,  clinging  among  the  shrouds,  at  the  great  risk  of 
their  lives,  to  furl  the  sails  and  repair  the  injury.  Xo  danger 
is  so  great  as  to  deter  them  from  doing  what  a  superior 
officer  commands.  Suddenly  awakened  from  the  slumbers 
of  night,  they  start  to  the  post  of  duty  without  a  murmur. 

Who  will  say  no  goodness  dwells  in  the  sailor's  heart ; 
that  all  is  dark,  depraved,  and  vile  ;  that  this  rough  cov- 
ering envelopes  no  nut,  no  germ  of  moral  excellence, 
which  retains  the  impress  of  its  divine  parentage,  and  needs 
but  the  application  of  truth  and  love  to  bring  out  the  in- 
nate quality,  arm  it  against  all  circumstances,  and  set  it  on 
its  heavenward  course  ?  Who  can  tell  us  how  far  bad 
influences — uncared  for  childhood,  neglected  vouth.  the 
crushing  weight  of  poverty  and  ignorance,  the  indifference 
and  abuse  of  employers,  and  the  cold  scorn  and  hard  de- 
nunciation of  the  professedly  good  and  pious,  have  tended 
to  make  them  what  they  are.  and  immeasurably  worse  than 
they  otherwise  would  have  been  ?  And  the  treatment 
they  receive  at  home  and  abroad  is  not  much  calculated  to 
make  them  better.    Thev  are  stowed  awav  in  the  low,  dark 


20 


THEIR   CONDITION  NEGLECTED. 


forecastle,  without  seats,  without  lights,  without  dishes,  save 
a  tin  plate  and  cup,  and  wooden  noggin.  They  are  fed  upon 
the  most  miserable  fare,  served  out  in  the  meanest  manner. 
Their  physical  comfort  is  altogether  disregarded.  They  are 
treated  with  less  attention  to  their  comfort  than  a  cartman's 
horse.  There  is  little  done  for  them  by  their  rich,  and  some- 
times pious  employers,  to  elevate  their  minds,  to  promote  their 
welfare,  and  to  make  them  think  more  seriously  of  their 
characters  as  men,  and  their  responsibilities  as  the  children 
of  God.  They  feel  that  they  are  unloved,  uncared  for,  and 
despised ;  and,  having  lost  their  self-respect,  through  con- 
sciousness of  guilt  and  the  unforgiving  spirit  of  the  world, 
they  find  in  themselves  no  heart  to  rise  and  retrieve  the 
errors  of  the  past,  by  a  true  reformation.  They  have  no 
confidence  in  themselves  nor  in  others,  save  in  those  of  the 
same  kith  and  kin,  whose  influence  serves  rather  to  depress 
than  elevate  them.  They  have  no  living  faith  in  God  or 
man,  in  truth  or  goodness.  All,  over,  around,  and  before 
them,  is  dark,  and  dreary,  and  desolate.  They  see  no  beam 
of  light,  not  a  ray  of  hope,  guiding  through  the  murky 
present  to  a  brighter  and  better  future,  arresting  their 
attention,  and  offering  to  them  attractions  to  aspire  after 
the  pure  and  holy,  the  beautiful  and  good.  They  never 
look  aloft  to  the  serene  atmosphere  of  Divine  Goodness,  to 
see  what  demonstrations  of  love  have  been  made  in  behalf 
of  sinners  by  the  gift  of  Jesus  Christ ;  or  if  they  do,  in 
their  unbelief,  they  conclude  that  such  condescension  is  not 
for  them.  The  church  has  not  made  practical  this  sublime 
doctrine  in  a  way  to  reach  their  case,  through  the  cold  neg- 
lect and  proud  contempt  the  world  has  heaped  upon  them. 
Their  hearts  remain  untouched,  their  judgments  unconvinced, 
their  condition  the  same,  or  growing  worse.  And  still  there 
is  a  frankness,  a  generosity,  a  devotion  to  duty,  a  disinter- 
estedness, an  intensity  of  feeling,  when  once  the  affections 
of  the  heart  are  touched,  which  no  one  can  fail  to  admire 
and  approve.  I  have  sat  for  hours  and  chatted  with  them. 
Like  slaves,  and  servants,  and  workers  in  large  estab- 


INFLUENCE   OF  CIRCUMSTANCES. 


21 


lishments,  they  feel  oppressed  and  constrained  by  a  sense 
of  their  inferiority,  and  enter  not  freely  and  confidentially 
into  conversation  with  others.  Oh!  the  curse  of  the  false 
distinctions  of  earth!  How  many  souls  have  been  made 
wretched  by  them!  How  many  thousands  are  kept  from 
the  licrht  of  truth  and  blessings  of  salvation!  What  ruin, 
what  misery,  what  desolations  have  they  wrought  in  all  the 
earth!  Jesus  came  to  break  down  every  barrier,  to  level 
every  mountain  and  hill,  fill  up  every  valley,  take  out  of 
the  way  every  stumbling-block,  and  prepare  a  highway  for 
the  Lord,  that  all  flesh  might  see  the  salvation  of  God. 

Oh,  blessed  Savior,  how  merciful,  how  condescending! 
the  companion  of  the  poor  and  miserable,  and  the  friend 
of  publicans  and  sinners!  Teach  men  thy  knowledge  and 
fear,  that  pride  and  arrogance  may  no  longer  dry  up  the 
charities  of  the  human  soul,  and  leave  the  millions  for  whose 
salvation  thy  blood  was  freely  poured  out,  to  die  in  igno- 
rance, and  moral  and  social  degradation!  Then  shall  thy 
church  arise  and  shake  itself  from  the  dust  of  earth,  and, 
attired  in  its  beautiful  garments,  go  triumphantly  forward 
in  its  work  of  love,  bestowing  its  benedictions  upon  all 
grades  of  universal  humanity. 

May  12. — What  a  wonderful  influence  weather  has  upon 
one's  spirits!  A  clear,  bright  day,  with  a  fair  breeze,  dis- 
pels all  gloom,  and  makes  one  cheerful  and  happy.  How 
much  are  most  people  affected  by  outward  circumstances ! 
Some  may  be  controlled  wholly  by  them.  Such  are 
like  seed  sown  on  thin  soil,  "  they  have  not  root  in 
themselves/'  Every  man  should  attain  to  the  possession 
of  a  degree  of  self-reliance  which  will  raise  him  above  all 
circumstances,  and  give  him  an  independence  and  fortitude 
sufficient  to  signalize  his  individuality  and  show  that  his 
character  is  not  a  mere  chameleon-hue.  taking  its  tinge  from 
whatever  is  reflected  upon  it.  Xo  matter  if  there  are 
coarse,  rugged  features,  observable  to  those  accustomed  to 
look  only  upon  the  flat  surface  of  life's  picture,  to  admire 
the  minglinss  of  light  and  shade  in  the  arrangement  of 


INDIVIDUALISM. 


forms  and  figures  which  stand  out  only  in  appearance. 
He  who  would  sculpture  the  real  statue  of  life  must  quarry 
out  the  solid  block,  and  employ  time  and  patience  to  chisel 
down  its  coarse  features,  and  smoothe  and  polish  their  rough 
outlines,  without  marring  the  prominence  of  any  part. 

This  individualism  is  an  important  doctrine,  especially 
when  taken  in  connexion  with  the  social  relations  and  du- 
ties of  life.  Perhaps,  in  America,  and  particularly  among 
those  really  independent  in  religious  and  political  matters, 
there  is  too  much  of  the  former  without  a  proper  regard 
for  the  latter.  Still,  I  can  conceive  of  no  social  organiza- 
tion worthy  of  reasonable  beings,  where  each  member  does 
not  retain  all  that  constitutes  a  freeman  of  God,  a  unit  in 
creation,  and  does  not  bring  himself,  as  he  is,  to  make  one 
in  the  mingled  mass.  If  he  is  to  sink  the  man,  to  lose  the 
individual  in  the  shade  of  another,  nothing  is  really  gained: 
but  one  is  actually  lost.  The  monarch  says  we,  and  assumes 
to  speak  for  the  realm.  The  Bishop  says  we,  and  dares  to 
speak  for  God.  All  under  him  but  reiterate  his  voice.  As 
many  as  receive  and  swallow,  like  young  birds,  without 
mastication,  whatever  is  given  them,  have  no  life  in 
themselves,  but  are  the  tools  of  another,  giving  the  reve- 
rence to  man  which  is  due  to  God  only.  The  Synod,  or 
Council,  or  Conventicle  may  do  the  same  thing,  seeking  to 
swallow  up  all  a  man  should  claim  for  himself.  How  in- 
sinuating and  formidable  is  the  love  of  power!  How  tame 
and  servile  is  the  soul  that  will  submit  to  it  willingly,  except 
when  exercised  in  trust  for  the  general  good,  of  the  fact  of 
which  he  reserves  the  right  to  judge  for  himself.  What  a 
sublime  spectacle  is  presented  in  our  great  Republic,  where 
all  men  are  sovereigns,  acting  in  concert  for  the  good  of  each! 
And  so  with  a  true  religion,  where  the  only  power  wielded 
over  free  minds  is  the  force  of  truth,  the  example  of  right- 
eousness, and  the  influence  of  love. 

These  reflections  were  suggested  to  my  mind  by  various 
conversations  with  our  Catholic  priest,  upon  the  infallibility 
of  his  Church,  its  right  to  judge  in  all  matters,  and  the  duty 


INFALLIBILITY   OF  THE  CHURCH. 


23 


of  all  her  priests  to  be  in  perfect  submission  to  her  decisions 
and  dictates,  and  of  all  her  members  to  be  in  a  true  sub- 
mission to  her  priests.  I  need  not  here  relate  the  train 
of  argument  by  which  he  sought  to  sustain  his  ground. 
The  bare  definition  of  his  position  is  enough  to  convince 
those  who  have  been  trained  from  their  youth  to  cherish,  as 
one  of  the  most  sacred,  natural,  and  inalienable  rights  of 
all  men,  that  freedom  of  thought  on  all  subjects  comes 
properly  within  the  range  of  human  inquiry.  But  it  is  sin- 
gular with  what  willingness  these  priests  consent,  with  the 
most  abject  submission,  to  the  authority  of  the  Church; 
and  with  what  pertinacity  they  exact  a  like  submission 
from  all  beneath  them.  Some  deny  the  infallibility  of  their 
Pope,  and  of  every  Cardinal  and  Bishop,  individually,  and 
even  admit  that  they  may  be  corrupt  men,  and  still  contend 
that,  when  acting  in  their  associated  capacity,  as  a  Church, 
they  are  infallible,  and  always  to  be  implicitly  and  blindly 
obeved. 

J 

Speaking  of  the  infallibility  of  the  Church,  I  see,  in 
Brownson's  last  Quarterly,  a  summary  of  the  entire  argu- 
ment upon  this  subject,  which  I  have  extracted  below. 
The  writer  is  attempting  to  prove,  in  reply  to  another,  that 
the  "Apocraphy"  is  canonical,  because  so  decreed  by  the 
Church.  The  Church  having  so  decided,  all  Christians  are 
bound  to  receive  it  as  such  until  the  validity  of  such  de- 
cree is  refuted,  and  this  can  not  be  done,  because  the  Church 
is  "infallible." 

"  But  to  prove  the  fallibility  of  the  Church,  or  to  disprove  her  infallibility,  is 
a  grave  undertaking,  and  attended  with  serious  difficulties.  The  Church  can 
not  be  tried  except  by  some  standard,  and  it  is  idle  to  attempt  to  convict  her  on 
a  fallible  authority.  If  the  conviction  is  obtained  on  a  fallible  authority,  the 
conviction  itself  is  fallible,  and  it,  instead  of  the  Church,  may  be  the  party  in 
the  wrong.  The  Professor  can  not  take  a  single  step,  can  not  even  open  his 
case,  unless  he  has  an  infallible  tribunal  before  which  to  summon  the  Church, 
— some  infallible  standard  by  which  to  test  her  infallibility  or  fallibility.  But 
before  what  infallible  tribunal  can  he  cite  her  ?  What  infallible  authority  haa 
he  on  which  to  demand  her  conviction  ? 

"  The  only  possible  way  in  which  the  fallibility  of  the  Church  can  be  proved, 
is  by  convicting  her  of  having  actually  erred  on  some  point  on  which  she 


24 


CONSERVATISM. 


claims  to  be  infallible.  But  it  is  evident,  that,  in  order  to  be  able  to  convict 
her  of  having  erred  on  a  given  point,  we  must  be  able  to  say  infallibly  what  is 
truth  or  error  on  that  point." 

What  wonderful  logic !  The  Church  assumes  infallibility ; 
claims  the  right  of  trial  by  a  "jury  of  her  peers,"  that  is 
by  "  infallible  "  judges  ;  denies  that  there  are  any  such  in 
the  realm,  and,  therefore,  the  Church  is  infallible !  And 
yet,  after  all,  this  is  the  only  argument  of  any  consequence 
—  it  is  the  main  argument,  which  the  Romish  Church  offers 
to  a  reasonable  world  and  an  enlightened  age,  to  sustain  its 
claims  to  infallibility  and  the  right  to  rule  men's  con- 
sciences in  all  matters  of  faith  and  practice. 

Another  point  we  had  under  discussion,  yesterday — the 
doctrine  of  "Transubstantiation."  Our  friend  asserted, 
positively,  that  the  bread  and  wine  became  the  actual  flesh 
and  blood  of  Christ  in  the  communion,  by  consecration. 
I  proposed  to  test  the  fact  by  a  chemical  analysis  of  the  ma- 
terials, after  such  consecration.  He  denied  the  right  to  do 
so,  and  argued  that,  as  Christ  had  power  to  turn  water  into 
wine,  so  he  could  give  power  to  his  Church  to  turn  bread 
into  flesh,  and  wine  into  blood.  I  did  not  deny  his  power 
to  do  so,  but  questioned  the  fact,  and  the  test  I  proposed 
would  settle  the  question  whether  such  special  approval  of 
of  God  had  been  given  to  his  Church.  He  thought  me 
most  wickedly  absurd  and  heretical,  and  did  not  modify  his 
opinion  in  my  favor  when  I  inquired  what  the  effect  would 
be  if  rats  and  mice  should  pick  up  some  of  the  crumbs  of  the 
consecrated  wafer. 

Such  discussions  are  not  very  edifying,  but  they  will  do 
very  wrell  to  help  while  away  the  tedium  of  a  sea  voyage. 
I  confess  myself  enlightened  on  several  points  of  Roman 
theology  which  I  had  thought  were  repudiated.  But  it 
seems  no  progress  has  been  made,  no  onward  movement 
given  to  the  doctrines  or  usages  of  that  venerable  institu- 
tion. What  has  been  with  them  must  always  be  ;  no  ad- 
vancement is  possible.  The  past  is  the  earnest  and  the  ac- 
tual of  the  future.    Every  voice  calls  backward,  and  threat- 


SUNDAY  REFLECTIONS. 


25 


ens  calamities  for  the  differing.  They  reject  "Excelsior" 
from  their  vocabulary,  and  fold  their  arms  in  stoic  indiffer- 
ence. One  object  only  animates  them  —  Proselytism  —  to 
bring  forward  the  Past,  to  bow  before  the  Ancient,  and  prop 
the  crumbling  walls,  which  totter  to  their  very  base. 

For  one  thing  I  like  our  Protestant  faith,  if  for  nothing 
else — its  freshness,  its  vigor,  its  boldness,  its  liberality.  It 
bids  us  look  up  and  forward,  to  forget  what  is  behind  and 
press  on  to  that  which  is  before,  undismayed  in  a  cause 
which  is  to  be  crowned  with  success  and  with  the  approval 
of  God.  It  denies  us  no  truth  ;  it  forbids  no  good  ;  it  gives 
freely  to  all;  upbraids  none,  but  bids  all  and  each  "go  for- 
ward," fear  not,  for  God  is  with  you  always,  even  to  the 
end  of  time. 

May  14. — It  is  Sunday  .  a  calm  and  quiet  day,  with  a 
fair,  soft  breeze.  The  sea  is  tranquil,  disturbed  only  by  our 
ship,  which  leaves  a  faint  ripple  behind,  but  which  is  all 
vanished  ere  wre  are  out  of  sight  of  it.  What  an  emblem 
of  the  good  man's  life !  He  lives,  and  loves,  and  blesses. 
His  years  flow  smoothly  on.  He  dies.  But  his  memory 
lives  after  him,  till  the  generation  that  knew  him  passes 
away  and  then  he  is  not  forgotten.  Not  so  with  the  selfish 
and  vile.  Their  memory,  like  our  ship's  track  in  a  storm, 
is  soon  obliterated,  or  exhibits  only  the  scattered  fragments 
of  a  wrasted  life. 

Our  passengers  are  so  few  that  no  public  religious  ser- 
vice has  been  proposed.  But  God  is  worshipped  accepta- 
bly by  the  heart  that  kindles  with  devotion  at  the  mighti- 
ness of  his  power,  the  grandeur  of  his  works,  and  the  suffi- 
ciency of  his  grace.  He  asks  the  sacrifice  of  the  heart, 
and  accepts  it  without  a  lip-service.  The  forms  of  wor- 
ship are  of  little  worth,  unless  they  become  suggestive, 
waking  up  religious  emotions,  and  giving  utterance  and  di- 
rection to  genuine  feelings  of  reverence  and  devotion. 
Who  can  be  witness  to  what  we  have  seen  —  the  "wonders 
of  the  Lord  in  the  great  deep,"  and  feel  no  sentiment  of 

S 


26 


TALKING  BUNTING. 


thankfulness,  no  desire  to  honor  and  obey,  to  praise  and 
adore  the  merciful  Benefactor,  who  has  preserved  us  in  all 
our  lives,  supplied  all  our  wants,  comforted  our  hearts  in 
sorrow,  and  given  us  the  promise  of  a  glorious  and  happy 
immortality  ? 

May  15. — Eleven  ships  in  sight  at  one  time,  this  morn- 
ing. Scarcely  a  day  has  passed,  that  we  have  not  fallen  in 
with  one  or  more.  Sometimes  they  come  near  to  us,  at 
others  are  so  far  off  that  only  the  topsails  can  be  seen,  ap- 
pearing no  larger  than  little  boats.  One  day,  when  about 
half  across  the  ocean,  we  spoke  a  brig,  which  had  been 
thirty-six  days  at  sea,  bound  from  London  to  Quebec.  She 
had  no  tidings  to  communicate,  no  request  to  make,  but 
feeling  lonely  and  discouraged  at  such  poor  progress,  de- 
sired a  little  relief  from  the  monotony  of  the  sea  by  a 
trumpet-talk  with  us.  At  another  time,  the  second  mate 
came  into  the  cabin  while  we  are  at  dinner,  saying  "  a  ship 
is  off  our  beam,  talking  bunting  to  us."  "  Answer  him," 
said  the  captain,  and  all  the  passengers  ran  on  deck  to  see 
the  process.  Small  signals  of  different  colors  are  set  in  the 
shrouds,  and  exchanged  which,  like  old-fashioned  tele- 
graphs, have  a  certain  meaning  affixed  to  them,  by  which 
enough  can  be  communicated  to  tell  the  name,  nation,  lati- 
tude and  longitude,  time  out,  port  of  destination,  and  so 
forth.  Sailors  generally  have  a  great  dislike  to  all  attempts 
at  sociability,  between  ships  on  the  sea,  and  avoid  them 
when  possible. 

But  such  interruptions  serve  to  break  the  monotony  of  a 
voyage,  and  afford  subject  of  conversation  for  an  hour. 
One  on  land  would  be  surprised,  perhaps  would  laugh,  to 
see  what  interest  is  awakened  at  the  sight  of  a  ship,  a  lost 
spar,  a  stick  of  wood,  or  any  object  floating  on  the  surface 
of  the  sea — a  whale,  a  shoal  of  porpoises,  a  shark,  a  lonely 
gull,  a  Mother  Carey's  chicken — any  thmg  to  divert  the  at- 
tention, from  gazing  at  the  broad  heavens  above,  bounded 
by  the  blue  sea  beneath.  The  fact  is,  man  is  not  all 
selfish ;  he  can  not  contract  himself,  like  a  tortoise,  into  his 


RELlGIoL'S  COXTROVERSt 


27 


own  shell,  and  be  content.  There  is  in  him  something, 
noble,  liberal,  expansive.,  which,  like  the  tendril  of  a  vine, 
feels  about  for  a  support  by  which  to  rise,  or  more  matured, 
to  give  support  to  others.  He  treads  upon  an  outer  world 
and  feels  how  dependent  he  is.  how  intimately,  and  in- 
separably his  happiness  and  very  being  are  blended  with  ob- 
jects which  a  merciful  Creator  has  placed  about  him. 
What  a  strange  and  unnatural  whim  it  was  which  pos- 
sessed the  minds  of  men.  claiming  the  highest  degree  of 
sanctity,  to  expatriate  themselves,  and  hide  away  in  a 
desert  place  from  the  good,  and  grand,  and  beautiful  works 
of  God! 

The  condition  of  our  cabin  has  been  again  rendered 
somewhat  uncomfortable  by  the  impertinence  and  dictato- 
rial overbearing  of  one  of  our  passengers,  who  is  in  every- 
thing, but  his  religious  opinions,  a  very  kind.,  companion- 
able and  excellent  man,  one  whom  we  much  esteem.  A 
foreigner  by  birth  and  education,  he  has  not  learned  to  ap- 
preciate aright  the  independence  of  American  character, 
and  the  principles  of  religious  toleration,  free  inquiry,  and 
equal  rights.  Unfortunately,  there  are  too  many,  even 
among  protestants,  not  unlike  him,  who  sink  the  gentleman 
and  Christian  in  the  sectarist,  and  forget  the  commonest 
civilities  of  life.  He  has  been  trained  to  obey  with- 
out a  murmur,  submit  without  an  inquiry,  to  what- 
ever his  superiors  demand  of  him ;  and,  in  turn,  he 
has  been  accustomed  to  receive  the  same  unquestioning 
submission  from  those  he  thinks  his  inferiors,  which,  of 
course,  are  all  those  who  do  not  sustain  the  same  rank  in 
the  true  church  as  himself  Some  of  us  were  willing  to 
admit  his  right  to  supremacy  in  matters  of  opinion,  and  so, 
after  exercising  a  full  share  of  long  suffering,  <;  we  stood 
fast  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  hath  made  us  free/' 
and  manfully  defended  our  own  views.  Like  most  religious 
discussions,  the  consequences  were,  at  first,  unpleasant ; 
but.  exercising  the  virtue  of  Christian  charitv  and  modera- 


28 


MARITIME  SKILL. 


tion,  our  friendship  was  not  marred,  but  our  mutual  respect, 
on  the  whole,  greatly  strengthened. 

The  mischief,  of  which  the  world  complains,  has  not  re- 
sulted necessarily  from  religious  controversies  on  points  of 
theology  where  there  is  an  honest  disagreement ;  but  either 
from  an  overbearing  or  dictatorial  manner,  which  demands 
assent,  without  producing  conviction  ;  adhering  with  a  su- 
perstitious and  wicked  pertinacity  to  old  opinions,  for 
which  no  sufficient  reason  is  given,  merely  because  they 
are  venerable  for  age,  and  are  our  own,  or  else,  from  the  un- 
kind and  unchristian  spirit,  in  which  they  are  carried  on — ex- 
hibiting any  thing  but  a  christian  temper  or  regard  for  truth. 

He  who  is  unable  to  control  his  own  passions,  unwilling 
to  be  convinced  of  the  truth,  or  too  proud  and  stubborn 
to  confess  his  errors  when  pointed  out  to  him,  should 
never  trust  himself  to  erter  the  arena  of  religious  debate, 
lest  he  injure  himself  and  profit  no  other.  The  end  of  the 
commandment  is  love  out  of  a  pure  heart  and  a  good  con- 
science, and  faith  unfeigned."  That  should  all  men  strive 
to  obey. 

May  16. — Good  courage!  We  are  promised,  this  morn- 
ing, that  we  shall  see  land  before  night.  Pleasant  sight ! — 
though  it  shall  be  to  us  the  land  of  strangers  !  It  is  a 
wonderful  achievement  of  human  skill,  that  enables  the 
mariner  to  note  his  exact  position  at  sea.  How  fixed  and 
benevolent  are  the  laws  of  God  in  all  their  adaptation  ! 
The  sun,  and  stars,  and  earth,  move  on  with  the  utmost 
precision.  They  form  the  basis  of  his  calculation.  The 
needle  gravitates  steadily  towards  a  fixed  point,  and  the 
compass  directs  him  in  his  course.  The  quadrant  marks 
the  altitude  of  the  sun,  and  guides  his  reckoning.  When 
there  is  apparent  imperfection  in  the  variation  of  the  needle, 
which  philosophy  has  not  explained,  the  amount  is  under- 
stood, and  security  is  not  endangered.  What  a  blessed  thing 
it  would  be,  if  all  men  would  study  moral  navigation,  and 
learn  how  to  steer  their  frail  barks  securely  over  the  ocean 


SUBMISSION   UNDER  DISAPPOINTMENTS. 


29 


of  life  to  the  port  of  everlasting  peace.  The  laws  of  God 
are  equally  plain  and  invariable  in  their  adaptation  to  all  the 
conditions  and  circumstances  of  life.  Man  has  only  to 
obey  them,  as  they  apply  to  his  whole  being,  in  order  to  se- 
cure the  end  contemplated  by  the  Infinite  Benevolence  of 
God  in  their  bestowment.  Sin  is  a  transgression  of  the 
law,  and  punishment  a  penalty  inflicted  to  produce  refor- 
mation. Let  him  who  would  be  happy,  be  true  to  himself, 
and  obedient  to  the  will  of  his  Father  in  heaven. 

The  wind  has  lulled  into  a  calm,  and  our  eyes  must  sleep 
another  night  without  the  sight  of  land.  Disappointments 
are  necessary  to  try  the  strength  of  a  man's  faith.  Always 
prosperous,  he  would  be  like  a  hot-house  plant,  unfitted  for 
the  real  world.  He  who  can  not  be  patient  under  denial  is 
ignorant  of  the  sources  of  enjoyment.  No  man  has  a  right 
to  inquire  why  God  made  the  world  as  he  did,  or  governs 
it  as  he  does.  It  is  the  part  of  true  wisdom  to  find  what 
his  will  is  :  submission  is  then  his  duty.  His  happiness  de- 
pends upon  doing  it.  There  is,  sometimes,  as  much  virtue 
in  endeavor  as  in  performance.  Both  are  essential  to  a 
true  life. 


CHAPTER  II. 

Sight  of  Land. — Hailed  by  some  Irishmen. — Leave  the  Ship. — An  Irish 
Hooker. — A  Dinner. — Approaching  the  Land. — Appearance  of  the  Coast. 
— Landing. — A  Stroll. — Taking  Tea. — Kinsale. — Servants. — Beset  by  Beg- 
gars.— An  Irish  Coach. — Ride  to  Cork. — A  grand  Prospect. 

THE  LANDING. 

May  17. — Rose  at  daylight,  and  on  going  on  deck  was 
greeted  with  the  pleasing  intelligence  that  a  light-house  had 
been  in  sight  several  hours.  I  took  the  glass,  and  traced 
the  rough  shore  of  Ireland,  from  Cape  Clear  eastward,  dis- 

3* 


80 


PREPARATIONS   FOR  LANDING. 


taut  some  twenty  miles.  "A  change  came  o'er  the  spirit 
of  my  dream."  J  breathed  more  freely.  My  blood  coursed 
more  rapidly.  All  was  joy  and  gladness.  1  roused  up  our 
fellow-passengers,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  pleasure  also. 
How  much  is  one's  happiness  enhanced  by  making  others 
happy  !    And  it  sometimes  costs  little  to  make  them  so. 

Assured  by  the  captain,  at  the  breakfast  table,  that  we 
should  probably  fall  in  with  a  fishing  boat  before  noon, 
which  would  come  along-side  to  sell  fish,  we  could  have  an 
opportunity  to  carry  out  our  previous  plan,  and  land  on  the 
south  coast  of  Ireland,  thus  avoiding  the  delay  frequently 
experienced  at  this  season  of  the  year  in  sailing  to  Liver- 
pool. We  hastened  to  make  the  necessary  preparation — 
packed  our  sacks  with  what  we  should  need  for  a  few 
weeks,  arranged  about  the  deposit  of  our  trunks,  wrote  up 
our  notes,  and  waited  the  arrival  of  a  boat.  Before  noon, 
several  were  in  sight,  making  for  our  course.  We  were 
under  gentle  sail,  with  all  our  canvas  set.  At  12,  one 
hailed  us  and  came  along-side — a  miserable,  dirty-looking 
affair,  manned  by  a  ragged,  piratical-looking  set  of  fellows 
as  were  ever  looked  on.  The  captain  doubted  if  we  should 
get  a  better,  so  we  authorized  him  to  contract  for  our 
conveyance  to  the  Cove  of  Cork,  on  the  most  favorable 
terms  he  could. 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?"  asked  the  captain. 

"  Sure,  an'  ar'nt  we  from  Cork  ?  Would  yer  honor  be 
afther  buyin'  soome  fish  ?" 

"  Well,  take  a  line." 

The  sailors  threw  one,  which  they  all  scrambled  after, 
and  finally  succeeded  in  making  it  fast  to  the  mast  of  their 
craft. 

"  Will  you  take  some  passengers  on  shore,  at  the  Cove 
of  Cork?" 

"  Sure,  an'  it's  the  same  thing  we'd  like  to  be  afther  do- 
ing," answered  all  at  once. 

"  For  what  price  will  you  land  them  there  ?" 


LEAVING   THE  SHIP. 


31 


"  How  mooney  might  there  be  ?"  asked  two  or  three. 
"Four,  with  small  sacks." 

t:  Two  poounds  a-pieee.  then     answered  two  voices. 

"  They  will  not  give  it.  It  is  a  great  deal  too  much.  So 
let  go  the  line." 

'"An'"  hoow  much  would  the  ginthilmin  bay  afther  giving?" 
demanded  one. 

"  Two  pounds  for  all  four,  if  you  land  them  at  the  Cove." 

"  Sure,  air  we'll  do  that  same  thing  to  plase  the  ginthil- 
min." ejaculated  all  at  once. 

"  Haul  in,  there,  and  let  them  come  close  along-side." 

They  veered  about  in  the  most  awkward  manner,  as  if 
afraid  our  ship  would  roll  over  them,  all  acting  as  com- 
manders, one  ordering  this  and  an  other  that,  until  the  pa- 
tience of  our  captain  was  well  nigh  exhausted.  They 
filially  succeeded  in  brinsincr  their  boat  within  lumping 
distance,  and  we  all  leaped  from  the  main-chains,  at  con- 
siderable risk  of  our  lives  and  limbs,  into  the  wildest,  cra- 
ziest looking  craft  that  ever  floated  on  the  sea,  the  Chinese 
junk  not  excepted.  Our  bags,  coats,  and  luncheon  fol- 
lowed. In  a  moment  the  hawser  was  cast  off  ;  we  waved 
adieu  to  our  excellent  and  gentlemanly  commander,  and  to 
all  on  board — towards  whom  we  had  come  to  feel  a  warm 
attachment,  and  soon  found  ourselves  floating  far  astern 
the  Siddons,  twenty  miles  from  shore,  and  in  a  little,  black, 
dirty  fishing  boat — called  a  <;  Hooker,"  managed  by  five 
men  and  two  boys,  all  looking,  if  possible,  worse  than  the 
boat  itself.  We  took  courage  when  we  learned  that  the 
name  of  the  hooker  was  the  "  Teetotaller,"  and  had  an  old 
man  on  board  called  *;  Admiral,"  who  showed  us  a  temper- 
ance medal  which  had  been  given  him  by  Father  Mathew. 
Likeness  of  principles  soon  inspires  friendship,  and  sobriety 
begets  confidence.  We  soon  contrived  to  get  up  a  conver- 
sation on  various  topics  connected  with  the  business  of  fish- 
ing, by  which  we  became  acquainted  with  the  hard  fate  of 
these  poor  fellows.    They  spend  weeks  on  the  sea.  amid 


32 


AN    IRISH  HOOKER. 


cold  and  storms,  toiling  at  great  peril  for  a  most  wretched 
and  precarious  subsistence.  We  inquired  of  them  about 
the  state  of  affairs  in  Europe,  which  were  so  threatening 
when  we  left  home ;  especially  in  England  and  their  own 
country.  But  they  were  ignorant  of  every  thing  discon- 
nected with  their  business;  none  of  them  being  able  to  read 
or  write.  Their  home  and  government  was  in  this  little 
vessel,  which  they  managed  upon  shares — the  owner  fitting 
it  out  with  sails,  rigging,  and  tackle,  for  one  half  the  profits. 
Their  income  affords  a  scanty  support.  Sometimes  they 
go  out  thirty  and  forty  leagues,  and  are  absent  a  week  or 
two,  without  any  success.  At  other  times,  they  return  in 
a  few  days  with  a  full  cargo. 

My  readers  will  pardon  me  for  the  description  of  an  Irish 
"  hooker,"  when  they  remember  that  many  thousand  human 
beings  live  in  them.  It  is  some  thirty  feet  long,  nine  feet 
beam,  drawing  seven  feet,  loaded.  Ours  had  a  rough 
board  deck,  five  feet  below  the  gunwale ;  the  midships 
filled  with  a  large  pile  of  netting  and  buoys,  or  floats,  made 
of  calf-skins,  sewed  tight,  as  if  whole,  and  filled  with  air, 
looking  like  hideous  monsters  from  the  deep.  It  was  sloop- 
rigged, — some  are  schooners, — with  a  high  pointed  main- 
sail, the  peak  of  which  ran  up  far  above  the  mast,  a  jib  and 
flying-jib,  all  besmeared  with  grease  and  tar,  to  preserve 
them  from  the  influence  of  the  weather.  Forward  of  the 
mast  was  the  cabin  which  was  entered  by  getting  down 
two  or  three  feet  into  a  transverse  opening  two  feet  wide, 
in  which  stood  a  common  iron  pot,  filled  with  burning  turf. 
Then,  by  doubling  down  as  best  we  could,  shutting  our 
eyes  meanwhile,  to  keep  out  the  smoke,  we  thrust  our 
heads  through  a  small  aperture  eighteen  inches  wide  and 
fifteen  high,  and  dragged  our  bodies  into  the  "gentleman's 
cabin."  The  carpet  was  loose  oat  straw,  about  eight 
inches  thick,  which  served,  at  the  same  time,  for  chairs 
and  beds.  From  the  straw  to  the  roof  was  just  two  feet, 
by  measure.    The  breadth  of  the  cabin  was  the  width  of 


A   PRIMITIVE  DINNER. 


33 


the  hooker,  and,  fore  and  aft,  the  length  of  a  man.  Vari- 
ous articles  were  stowed  into  the  forward  end.  Into  this 
Calcutta  black-hole  we  crawled,  during  a  violent  shower 
which  came  on,  and  remained  till  we  were  well  nigh  suffo- 
cated with  the  smoke  from  the  pot  of  turf,  which  came  in 
by  the  "  companion  way,"  or  main  side  hatch.  There  was 
no  opening  for  it  to  escape.  The  helmsman  had  a  small 
box-compass  set  loose  on  the  deck,  by  which  he  steered. 
The  commands  were  mutually  given,  in  a  broad  dialect  we 
could  not  understand.  We  felt  that  we  were  among  stran- 
gers and  approaching  a  foreign  land. 

The  dinner  hour  arrived,  and  it  was  proposed  to  cook  us 
some  fresh  mackerel.  We  assented,  but  wondered  how  it 
was  to  be  done.  Half  a  dozen  were  prepared,  put  in  a  pot, 
and  set  upon  the  other  filled  with  turf.  By  dint  of  hard 
blowing,  the  pot  was  made  to  boil,  though  closely  watched. 
For  a  table  a  rough  board  was  placed  on  a  pile  of  fish-nets, 
so  as  to  keep  a  steady  position,  on  which  we  spread  a 
newspaper  for  a  cloth.  On  this  the  fish  were  placed  and 
<;  dinner  was  ready."  No  knife,  no  fork,  no  plate.  These 
are  needless  things  for  ultra-utilitarians.  Finders  before 
forks  ;  boards  before  tables.  They  are  more  primitive, 
more  natural.  We  asked  for  salt,  and  a  man  brought  some  in 
his  hands  and  poured  it  on  the  table.  S-alt-cellars  are  need- 
less expenditures.  It  was  of  a  quality  between  table  and 
Turk's  Island,  a  sort  of  ';  coarse  fine."  We  ate  as  best  we 
could,  and  gave  portions  of  the  liberal  allowance  furnished 
us  bv  the  generous  steward  of  the  Siddons,  of  which  the 
poor,  half-starved  fellows  partook  with  a  hearty  good  relish, 
mixing  in  many  expressions  of  thankfulness.  Such  was  our 
first  meal  among  foreigners. 

The  wind  freshened  into  a  stiff  breeze,  the  waves  rolled 
high,  sometimes  dashing  the  spray  all  over  us,  and  our 
little  craft  was  tossed  about  most  fearfully.  We  sheltered 
ourselves  as  best  we  could  and  submitted  to  our  fate.  The 
novelty  of  our  position  filled  us  with  indescribable  emotions. 


34 


NAKED  SHORES. 


The  approach  to  the  shores  of  the  Old  World  is  full  of 
novelty  and  excitement.  Reality  begins  to  supplant  imagi- 
nation, and  scenes  are  developed  at  once  strange  and  pleas- 
ing, in  almost  every  respect  dissimilar  to  those  with  which 
one  has  been  familiar  in  his  own  country.  Not  least  among 
the  sources  of  happiness  in  that  hour,  was  the  thought  that 
the  treacherous  sea  had  been  crossed,  and  wre  were  soon  to 
set  foot  on  the  solid  ground.  Tnis  thought  would  have 
filled  us  with  joy,  had  we  not  been  compelled  to  turn  a 
surly  look,  half  contemptuous,  half  imploring,  at  the  old 
ocean  ;  as  much  as  to  say,  Though  I  despise  thee,  1  will  not 
vent  my  detestation,  lest  I  wake  thy  wrath,  to  be  remem- 
bered when  I  recross  thy  trackless  and  turbulent  waves,  to 
my  country  and  my  home.  I  have  crossed  thy  domain. 
Let  us  be  at  peace.  Spite  retained  for  injuries  past,  de- 
stroys the  peace  of  him  who  cherishes  it. 

As  we  drew  nearer,  the  long  line  of  undulating  coast  ap- 
peared more  and  more  distinct.  The  "  Old  Head  of  Kin- 
sale,"  jutting  several  miles  into  the  sea,  and  rising  to  the 
height  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  crowned  with  a  large 
white  light-house  and  the  crumbling  walls  of  an  old  castle, 
like  the  out-sentinel  of  another  world,  stood  upon  our  left, 
and  protected  the  little  bay  we  were  entering  from  the 
strong  winds  we  had  encountered.  On  our  right,  arose 
locky  and  precipitous  cliffs,  which  stretched  eastward  out  of 
sight,  and  whose  base  is  for  ever  lashed  by  the  surging  waves 
of  the  broad  Atlantic.  Before  us  the  land  rose  by  gentle 
acclivities,  covered  all  over  with  little  fields  of  various 
shapes  and  colors.  The  fresh-plowed  ground  looked  black 
from  the  rain  just  fallen.  In  some  the  new-sprung  grain 
looked  green  and  soft.  The  close-fed  pastures  were  of  a 
lighter  hue,  in  which  sheep,  and  goats,  and  cattle  were  graz- 
ing. The  bright  yellow  furz,  in  full  blossom,  scattered  about 
the  borders  of  the  fields,  or  in  large  patches,  here  and  there, 
added  greatly  to  the  novelty  and  beauty  of  the  scenery. 
Then,  the  asses  and  mules,  heavily  laden,  winding  up  the 
steep  sides  of  the  hills,  driven  by  barefoot  boys  or  girls;  the 


ENTERING   THE  HARBOR. 


35 


peculiar  dress  of  the  men  and  women  working  in  the  fields : 
the  singular  appearance  of  the  low  mud  hovels :  the  entire 
absence  of  forests,  or  copses  of  wood,  with  scarce  a  tree  or 
shrub  in  view ;  the  queer  construction  of  the  water  craft 
we  met  or  passed  :  the  hoarse,  broad  dialect  heard  from  the 
boats  and  the  shore  ;  every  thing  was  strange  and  curious, 
wholly  unlike  any  portion  of  our  own  country,,  or  aught  I 
had  seen  or  imagined  before. 

By  a  single  tack  we  entered,  through  a  narrow  passage, 
into  the  calm  and  beautiful  harbor,  completely  surrounded 
by  rising  grounds,  with  a  large  fort  in  front.,  whose  "  war- 
dogs.'"'  mounted  on  lofty  battlements,  frowned  gruffly  at  our 
entrance,  like  a  maddened  bull,  ready  for  attack.  One 
can  hardly  imagine  the  feelings  of  enthusiasm  we  felt  on 
finding  ourselves  secure  from  the  rocking  sea,  and  approach- 
ing a  large  town,  pleasantly  situated  around  the  Cove  up 
which  we  were  sailing.  We  wound  round  the  low  point 
on  which  stand  the  ruins  of  an  old  fort,  and  came  directly 
up  to  the  town.  We  were  hailed  in  rough,  hoarse  lan- 
guage, by  a  set  of  ragged  and  filthy  fisherwomen,  who  paddled 
their  dirty  boats  out  to  meet  us  and  buy  our  fish,  if  we  had 
any.  But  the  only  produce  of  this  voyage  was  three  live 
Yankees  and  a  French  priest  —  poor  property  in  an  Irish 
market.  Several  boats  had  arrived  just  before  us,  on  board 
of  which  were  several  women,  wrangling,  and  swearing, 
and  scolding,  in  words  so  loud  that  thev  echoed  back  from 
the  town  in  no  verv  agreeable  accents,  as  thev  broke  the 
stillness  of  that  quiet  and  beautiful  scene. 

The  joy  we  felt  on  leaping  from  the  boat  to  the  steps  of 
the  "  Royal  George  Hotel."  where  we  lodge,  was  un- 
bounded. It  surpassed  description.  The  declining  sun, 
which  had  been  obscured  since  noon,  burst  through  its 
cloudy  veil,  and  shone  brightly  and  beautifully  upon  the 
green  hills  and  that  part  of  the  town  not  shaded  by  the  ris- 
ing ground  in  the  rear.  The  birds  sang  merrily,  and  the 
sweet  aroma  of  the  flowers  perfumed  the  mild  zephyrs  of 
evening.    The  scene  was.  to  us.  enchanting.    We  could 


30 


EXTRA   i'AV  DEMANDED. 


not  restrain  our  delight.  We  ran,  and  frolicked,  and  chat- 
tered like  children  just  out  of  school.  This  saved  us  from 
the  a])]  tea  ranee  of  awkwardness  we  should  otherwise  have 
exhibited,  from  the  uncontrollable  movements  of  our  loco- 
motive machinery,  which  had  got  somewhat  deranged  by 
our  toppling  motions  on  ship-board.  We  managed  to  get 
into  the  "  Royal  George,"  whither  our  boatmen  followed 
us,  demanding  some  extra  pay  for  drink-money.  We  re- 
fused ;  first,  because  we  did  not  understand  that  after  pay- 
ing, according  to  contract,  £2,  any  further  claim  could  be 
rightfully  made  against  us  ;  second,  because  they  agreed 
to  carry  us  to  Cork,  but  had  brought  us  to  Kinsale,  not 
half  the  distance.  This  we  overlooked,  so  glad  were  we 
to  get  on  shore,  any  where  ;  third,  because  we  could  not 
see  what  "  drink-money"  had  to  do  with  a  temperance 
crew  of  the  "  Teetotaller."  But  we  could  not  reason  the 
matter.  They  said  it  was  the  custom  to  do  so  ;  and  gave 
us  any  thing  but  their  blessing  when  we  plead  ignorance  of 
all  such  laws,  civil,  social,  or  martial. 

After  warming  and  drying  ourselves  by  a  good  fire,  we 
issued  out  to  make  our  first  acquaintance  with  an  Irish 
town.  We  wandered  about  through  several  streets,  and 
ascended  an  eminence  on  the  north,  where  we  saw  whole 
streets  of  low  cottages,  with  roofs  fallen  in,  and  nothing 
but  the  naked  stone  walls  remaining.  The  remark  of  one 
was,  "  They  must  have  had  a  great  fire  here."  A  few 
turns  more  and  we  came  to  other  streets  in  the  same  deso- 
late condition,  when  the  same  remark  was  repeated  by 
another,  forgetting  we  were  in  the  Old  World,  where 
ruins  were  to  be  looked  for — in  Ireland,  where  poor  ten- 
ants are  robbed  of  their  dwellings  by  their  merciless  land- 
lords. Passing  the  Catholic  Church,  we  saw  our  clerical 
friend  going  in  with  his  missal  in  his  hand. 

Fatigued  with  a  short  walk,  we  returned  and  ordered 
tea.  This  opened  to  us  an  entire  new  scene  in  the  cus- 
toms of  social  life,  and  the  art  of  hotel  keeping.  It  was 
served  on  this  wise.    The  table  was  set  without  a  cloth, 


TAKING   TEA . 


37 


furnished  with  a  plate  and  knife,  a  cup  and  saucer  for  each. 
A  square  loaf  of  bread  was  placed  in  the  center,  with  a 
dozen  small  pieces  of  butter,  the  size  of  hickory  nuts,  on  a 
plate  beside  it.  A  sugar  bowl,  milk  pitcher,  and  tea-pot, 
and  a  small  square  box  beside,  completed  the  table  furni- 
ture. A  tea-kettle  was  set  by  the  side  of  the  grate,  when 
the  waiter  said,  "  Tay  is  ready,  sir."  We  sat  down,  and 
looked  inquiringly  at  each  other  One  essayed  to  pour  out 
the  tea,  when  lo !  the  pot  was  found  to  be  empty.  We 
explored  the  interior  and  found  no  tea.  We  stared  at  each 
other,  and  burst  into  a  hearty  laugh.  The  waiter  had  left 
the  room.  The  bell  was  rung,  and  he  returned.  We  in- 
formed him  of  his  mistake.  "  Och,"  said  he,  "  here  is  the 
tay,"  opening  the  little  ornamented  box,  which  contained 
two  apartments,  one  filled  with  black,  and  the  other  with 
green  tea.  "  An'  ye'll  plase  put  in  the  tay,  an'  I'll  be  af- 
ther  poouring  the  wather  upon  it."  We  did  so,  and  the  pot 
was  filled  with  water  from  the  kettle  and  sat  upon  the 
table.  In  a  little  time  it  was  duly  steeped,  and  we  pro- 
ceeded to  partake  of  a  meal  served  in  a  manner  quite 
novel  to  us. 

After  tea,  we  arranged  for  our  departure  to  Cork  on  the 
following  morning.  A  large  crowd  of  men,  women,  and 
children,  most  of  them  young,  ragged,  and  dirty,  were 
gathered  in  the  street  to  hear  the  stories  and  witness  the 
feats  of  a  stripling  harlequin,  who  attempted  some  very 
foolish  and  unattractive  exploits,  a  woman,  meanwhile,  go- 
ing round  for  such  contributions  as  she  could  raise,  to  en- 
courage the  renegade  to  go  on  with  his  nonsense.  The 
"  ha'-pennies  "  came  in  as  sparingly  as  they  do  to  the  mu- 
sic grinders  in  our  own  country. 

K  I  N  S  A  L  E. 

May  18. — We  retired  early  last  night,  with  hearts  full 
of  gratitude  to  Almighty  God  for  having  preserved  our 
lives,  and  given  us  a  safe  and  pleasant  voyage  across  the 

4 


38 


A  SLEEPLESS  NIGHT. 


Atlantic.  We  had  fond  hopes  of  a  quiet  night,  and  sound 
and  refreshing  sleep,  but  were  doomed  to  disappointment. 
The  transition  we  had  passed,  the  strange  scenes  we  had 
witnessed,  the  influence  of  the  tay,  or  something  else,  so 
disquieted  my  nerves  that  I  could  not  sleep  at  all.  Oh,  the 
horrors  of  a  sleepless  night !  How  miserable,  how  per- 
fectly wretched !  I  wished  myself  at  home,  on  board  the 
ship,  snugly  cradled  in  my  birth,  to  be  rocked  to  sleep  by 
the  rolling  waves, —  any  where,  but  to  be  rolling  and  tumb- 
ling in  a  fever  of  sleepless  excitement.  How  forcible  were 
the  words  of  poor  Sancho  Panza,  "  Blessings  on  the  head 
of  him  who  first  invented  sleep."  I  never  rejoiced  as  I  did 
this  morning,  to  see  the  dawn  of  day,  to  be  able  to  forsake 
my  couch  of  sleepless  misery,  and  go  forth  and  find  relief 
in  the  world  of  realities. 

I  roused  my  companions  and  started  for  a  more  gene- 
ral inspection  of  the  town.  We  passed  through  all  the 
principal  streets  and  ascended  the  lofty  eminence  called 
"  Compass  Hill,"  which  overlooks  the  bay  and  a  large  tract 
of  the  surrounding  country  and  commands  a  fine  prospect 
of  the  town,  several  villas,  the  forts,  harbors, "  Old  Head," 
and  the  sea.  The  sun  arose  in  sweetest  beauty  and  ascended 
a  cloudless  sky.  The  birds  sang  sweetly,  and  twittered  from 
spray  to  spray  in  the  gardens  and  orchards.  The  fields  were 
decked  in  their  richest  robes.  Several  small  boats  laden 
with  various  articles  for  the  market  were  coming  down 
the  Bandon  river  which  forms  a  frith  in  the  rear  of  the 
town.  The  hum  of  busy  feet  and  voices  in  the  town,  the 
rolling  beat  of  the  reveille  in  the  capacious  barracks  op- 
posite, the  marshaling  of  the  red-coat  soldiery,  every  thing 
wore  the  charm  of  novelty. 

We  strolled  about  visiting  the  spacious  grounds  and 
splendid  garden  of  some  nobleman  whose  name  we  have 
forgotten,  squinting  at  the  extensive  military  preparations 
and  looking  at  the  lean  market  and  leaner  inhabitants — 
wretched,  squalid,  and  filthy — assembled  about  it.  Here 
were  women  with  early  vegetables,  milk,  bread,  butter,  fish, 


THE  TOWN". 


39 


or  something  else  to  sell ;  then  a  long  row  of  men  with 
spades  waiting  for  some  man  to  hire  them.  There  went 
an  ass  loaded  with  two  monstrous  panniers  suspended 
across  its  back  and  reaching  nearly  to  the  ground,  con- 
laining  milk,  potatoes,  turf,  or  some  other  marketable  stuff  : 
everything  looked  odd.  awkward,  strange  and  miserable. 

The  town  itself  is  dilapidated,  being  of  little  importance 
compared  with  its  former  rank.  It  bears  the  mark  of  age,, 
and  must  have  been  at  one  time  a  place  of  great  business. 
We  are  told  it  was  once  the  depot  of  all  outward  bound 
fleets,  having  a  safe  and  commodious  harbor  for  ships  of 
all  sizes ;  that  it  was  so  much  more  noted  than  Cork,  that 
letters  were  directed  to  "Cork,  near  Kinsale."  The  Spa- 
niards at  one  time  had  possession  of  the  town.  Prince 
Rupert  took  shelter  here  during  the  protectorate  of  Crom- 
well, at  which  time,  and  in  the  reism  of  James  II.  it  was 
the  scene  of  several  bloody  engagements.  It  suffered  so  se- 
verely., that  it  has  never  recovered  its  former  importance. 
A  strong  fort  commands  the  harbor.  There  are  several 
venerable  churches  ;  that  of  St.  Multaria  was  built  in  the 
14th  century.  The  Catholic  chapel  and  Carmelite  prior}', 
the  workhouse,  the  barracks,  and  the  jail  are  prominent 
objects  of  attraction.  The  houses,  generally,  look  dingy. 
Nothing  about  the  place  indicates  thrift  or  comfort,  except 
a  few  private  dwellings. 

After  a  breakfast,  like  our  tea  of  the  preceding  night, 
with  the  addition  of  two  boiled  eggs  a  piece,  we  paid  our 
bill  and  arranged  to  leave.  Each  took  his  small  sack  and 
started  for  the  coach  office.  We  were  followed  bv  a  bov, 
who  demanded  pay  for  himself,  the  chambermaid  and 
the  waiter.  The  justice  of  this  claim  we  did  not  under- 
stand. We  had  paid  our  bill — for  tea,  Is  6d  :  for  lodging. 
2-  6d  ;  for  breakfast  2s,  (81  37  :)  and  Mr.  Boots  and  Miss 
Chambermaid  we  had  not  seen.  We  carried  in  our  own 
basr^asre  and  brought  it  awav.    What  else  was  wanted  ? 

u  Sure,  an  we  get  nothin  but  our  chances  ;  an  the  gintil- 
min  will  not  lave  us  without  <=omethin." 


40 


THE  MAIL  COACH. 


"  Your  chances  !  what  are  they  ?  We  take  our  chances 
in  our  country  and  work  our  way  as  best  we  can.  We  paid 
our  bill,  for  all  that  we  had,  and  all  that  was  demanded, 
now  what  do  you  want  more?" 

"  Jist  what  yer  honors  plase — a  shillun  to  the  sarvant,  a 
shillun  to  the  chambermaid,  and  sixpence  to  the  boots." 

"  Why,  that  will  make  half  a  crown  for  each  ;  half  a  sov- 
reign  in  all." 

"Ay,  jist  that  same  thing  it  will  be,  sure,  and  we'll 
pray  God  to  prosper  yer  journey." 

"  There,  take  that,  and  go  to  grass,  and  take  your  chan- 
ces with  Nebuchadnezzar.  We  will  give  you  no  more. 
This  is  not  the  way  to  do  business  any  how.  We  pay 
for  what  we  have,  but  do  not  beg  for  charities,  nor  give 
gratuities  on  demand!' 

By  this  time  we  had  arrived  at  the  coach  office,  and 
poor  boots,  made  himself,  very  busy,  in  detailing  his  un- 
lucky chances  with  these  Americans.  The  coach  stood 
before  the  door,  and  several  passengers  were  already  tak- 
ing their  seats,  although  the  horses  were  not  yet  hitched  to 
it.  As  we  had  engaged  outside  seats,  for  the  purpose  of 
seeing,  we  were  anxious  to  secure  good  ones,  so  we  mount- 
ed a  tier  behind  the  driver's  box,  which  was  wide  enough 
for  our  party  of  four.  Behind  the  coach,  over  the  baggage  box, 
is  another  seat,  and  another  still,  facing  backwards,  so  that 
eight  passengers  can  ride  there  ;  then  two  with  the  driver, 
making,  in  all,  fourteen  outside,while  only  six  can  ride  inside. 
The  outside  seats  are  much  the  pleasantest  in  good  weather, 
or  when  it  is  dusty.  They  are,  generally,  all  occupied, 
when,  perhaps,  there  will  not  be  a  passenger  inside.  Even 
some  who  pay  for  inside  seats,  which  are  at  about  one-third 
higher  price,  often  ride  outside,  when  the  weather  is  fine. 

While  waiting  for  the  horses  and  mails,  we  noticed  seve- 
ral sleek-looking  young  men,  dressed  in  blue  clothes,  with 
standing  collars  to  their  coats,  on  which  were  figures  in  sil- 
ver with  polished  leather  tops  to  their  hats.  We  could  not 
make  out  their  business ;  they  eyed  us  very  closely,  and  at 


A   SCENE   OF  MISERY. 


41 


one  time  we  supposed  them  to  be  custom-house  officers, 
looking  after  our  baggage ;  for  nobody  had  asked  us  about 
it.  We  afterwards  learned  that  they  were  policemen  and 
were  taking  particular  notice  of  us,  so  as  to  be  able  to  de- 
scribe us,  if  ever  inquired  of.  In  these  rebellious  times, 
Americans  are  looked  upon  with  some  suspicion,  as  well  as 
all  who  sympathise  with  the  people. 

But  another  scene  soon  occurred,  illustrative  of  Ireland's 
degradation.  An  old  woman,  went  among  the  passengers 
about  the  door  of  the  office  begging.  I  was  the  only  one 
at  the  time  on  the  coach,  the  others  had  left  to  escape  a 
slight  shower.  She  came  to  me,  and  reached  up  her  lean, 
shrivelled  hand,  with  a  "Plase  yer  honor,  and  will  ye  give  the 
poor  woman  a  ha-'penny,  and  God  bless  ye  for  it  ?"  Her 
dress  had  been  patched  with  as  many  colors  as  Joseph's 
coat,  and  was  all  tattered  and  torn  at  that.  Some  old 
clogs,  like  shoes,  were  on  her  feet,  and  a  ragged  shawl  was 
thrown  over  her  head.  Her  ankles,  arms,  and  neck  were 
naked,  and  she  might  well  say,  with  the  prophet,  "  My  lean- 
ness, my  leanness  ;"  or  with  Job,  "  Thou  hast  filled  me  with 
wrinkles,  and  my  leanness  beareth  witness  to  my  face." 
I  had  no  heart  to  send  her  away  empty.  So  I  took  a  bag 
of  ginger-cakes  I  had  provided  against  sea-sickness,  (which 
danger  being  over,  I  could  well  spare,)  and  gave  her  a  hand- 
ful. In  less  than  a  minute,  more  than  twenty  gathered 
around  the  coach,  each  striving  to  get  nearest,  all  reaching 
up  their  lean  hands,  and  saying,  "  May  God  bless  ye,  sir ;" 
"  May  God  Almighty  return  ye  safe  to  yer  home  and  yer 
blissid  coounthry  ;"  "  May  God  reward  ye  in  heaven  ;" 
"  May  the  Hooly  Virgin  protict  ye  ;"  "  Och,  sir,  ye'll  geve 
me  some,  for  Jesus'  sake,  for  my  poor,  famishing  childers  ;" 
"  Plase  give  me  some,  sir,"  said  a  little,  ragged  boy,  who 
had  climbed  up  the  wheel,  "  and  I'll  carry  them  to  my  poor, 
sick  mother." 

A  young  woman  crowded  up,  with  a  child  in  her  arms. 
Both  looked  as  if  half-starved.  I  reached  her  a  hand  full, 
and  as  she  took  them  and  looked  up  to  express  her  thanks, 

4* 


42 


1  WRETCHEDNESS. 


I  saw  big  tears  trembling  in  her  eyes,  and  she  turned  away 
without  speaking.  Not  so  with  all,  for  many  besought  me 
the  second  time,  and  the  old  woman  who  came  first  put  in 
her  request  the  third  time,  with  the  most  solemn  protesta- 
tions that  she  "had  not  a  single  bish-cake  at  all,  at  all." 
Some  others  hid  theirs  away  in  their  bosoms,  and  then  said 
they  had  not  received  one,  and  plead,  in  God's  name,  for  a 
single  cake.  I  could  not  appease  them  till  the  last  cake 
was  gone  and  the  bag  turned  inside  out.  They  then  with- 
drew, wjth  many  appeals  to  God  for  blessings  on  the  "  kind 
gintilmin,"  and  stood  about  the  buildings,  some  showing 
their  cakes  to  the  hosts  who  continued  to  collect,  begging 
for  a  taste.  I  saw  the  little  boy  who  asked  some  for  his 
mother,  steal  out  of  the  crowd  and  run  away,  while  several 
others  chased  after,  trying  to  rob  him. 

It  was  not  curiosity  that  brought  these  poor  creatures 
about  me.  They  were  actually  hungry.  Their  hollow 
looks  betokened  the  emptiness  of  their  bellies.  A  gentle- 
man assured  us  that  probably  one-third  of  the  people 
about  Kinsale  did  not  get  a  full  meal,  even  of  the  coarsest 
food,  one  day  in  seven,  and  many  families  wrent  whole  days 
with  nothing.  And  when  I  remembered  that  this  was  not 
far  from  Skibbereen,  where  the  famine  of  winter  before  last 
did  its  deadliest  work,  I  could  not  discredit  him.  The  very 
looks  of  the  people  satisfied  me  that  he  told  the  truth. 
What  a  shame  that  such  multitudes  should  live  in  such 
wretchedness  and  ignorance  under  the  government  of  the 
Mistress  of  the  world  !  And  the  evil  seemed  greater  when 
I  saw  large  tracts  of  fine  land  uncultivated, — kept  for  pas- 
turing, and  the  hunting  and  pleasure  grounds  of  noblemen! 
The  land  is  fertile,  but  husbanded  in  the  worst  manner. 
The  rents  and  taxes  are  so  enormous  that  the  tenants  can 
not,  with  their  awkward  manner  and  limited  means,  make  it 
pay  them  half  a  living  for  their  labor.  So  the  people  clus- 
ter about  the  towns,  to  labor  what  they  can  for  hire,  and 
beg  for  the  rest.  The  scene  of  this  morning  was  such  as  I 
never  witnessed  before.    I  never  saw  humanity  so  de- 


RIDE   TO  CORK. 


13 


graded,  not  even  among  the  slaves  of  our  Southern  States. 
I  wonder  there  is  no  more  interest  felt  in  the  welfare  and 
improvement  of  this  people  It  would  seem  the  interest  of 
the  owners  of  these  estates.,  the  honor  and  prosperity  of 
the  nation,  would  produce  a  better  state  of  things,  to  say 
nothing  about  the  demands  of  Christian  philanthropy.  But 
I  shall,  doubtless,  be  wiser  on  these  subjects  when  I  have 
seen  more  of  the  actual  state  of  this  country. 

At  length  all  was  ready  ;  the  driver  on  his  box,  and  the 
guard,  a  burly  old  fellow,  with  a  bright-red  coat  trimmed 
with  black,  mounted  the  hind  seat,  with  several  little  mail 
bags  in  his  hand,  and  gave  command  ;  when  off  we  started 
at  a  smart  trot,  which  was  continued,  up  hill  and  down, 
till  we  reached  the  half-way  house,  where  the  horses  were 
changed  in  less  than  three  minutes,  and  we  were  again 
on  our  wav.  The  road  is  excellent,  being  well  graded  and 
thoroughlv  macadamized.   The  stages  being  short,  not  over 

CD       J  ~  O 

eight  or  nine  miles,  the  horses  are  driven  that  distance  in 
an  hour,  so  that  we  reached  Cork,  nineteen  miles,  in  two 
hours.  A  supply  of  hands  are  in  waiting  at  the  relay  sta- 
tions, who  change  the  teams  without  calling  the  driver 
from  his  seat.  He  simply  throws  down  his  reins  and  sits 
at  his  ease,  till  others  are  handed  him.  He  has  nothing  to 
do  with  horses,  but  to  drive  them. 

The  prospect  from  the  hill  we  passed,  in  ascending  from 
the  cove  in  which  Kinsale  is  situated,  is  extensive,  varied, 
and  beautiful.  The  bay,  the  harbor,  the  town  and  its  envi- 
rons, a  vast  region  of  undulating  country,  with  its  green 
and  gently  sloping  hills,  and  rich  and  verdant  vallies, 
bounded  by  a  distant  range  of  mountains  on  the  north,  and 
the  broad  ocean  jutting  into  the  land  here  andt':ere,  on  the 
south,  present  a  landscape  as  grand  and  pleasing  as  I  ever  saw. 
But  the  beauty  of  it  is  sadly  marred,  and  the  glory  of  it  van- 
ishes when  the  eye  falls  upon  the  low  mud  hovels,  waste 
fields,  and  squalid  population,  close  at  hand.  Mingled  feel- 
ings of  admiration  and  regret,  of  thankfulness  and  pity,  were 


44 


THE  CITY. 


awakened  in  my  breast,  and  I  could  smile  at  the  beautiful 
works  of  God,  and  weep  for  the  misery  of  man. 

For  some  distance  we  traced  the  line  of  the  great  south- 
western railroad,  which  is  under  contract,  to  extend  from 
Dublin  by  Cork  and  Bandon,  and  thence  to  Bantry  Bay. 
It  is  completed  nearly  half  the  way — to  Clonmel — and  par- 
tially graded  the  remainder.  The  political  troubles  in  this 
country,  and  the  scarcity  of  money,  have  caused  a  tempo- 
rary suspension  of  the  work.  When  completed  it  is 
thought  that  passengers  from  America,  by  the  Liverpool 
mail  steamers,  will  pass  over  it,  and  thus  shorten  the  pas- 
sage from  England  to  America  about  two  days.  There 
will  also  be  considerable  local  business  along  the  road, 
which  can  not  fail  to  improve  this  part  of  the  country, 
now  said  to  be  the  most  neglected  and  wretched  portion  of 
the  Island. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  DAY  IN  CORK. 

A  View  of  Cork. — A  Reflection. — An  unexpected  Acquaintance. — Irish  Gra- 
titude for  American  Benevolence. — Mardyke. — An  American  Ship. — Wea- 
riness.— A  Lunch. — Various  Topics. — A  Car  Ride. — Blarney  Castle. — Re- 
flections.— The  Blarney  Stone. — Englishmen. — Father  Mathew. — Descrip- 
tion of  the  City. 

CORK. 

The  approach  to  Cork,  from  the  west,  is  remarkably 
beautiful  and  picturesque.  The  road  winds  down  into  the 
valley  from  a  lofty  ridge,  which  overlooks  the  whole  city 
and  its  suburbs,  and  a  wide  extent  of  undulating  country, 
through  which  the  river  Lee  meanders,  in  its  way  from  the 
mountains  on  the  northwest  to  the  cove  just  below  the  city. 
A  ridge  of  hills  bounds  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley, 
which  swell,  and  recede,  and  rise  in  gentle  acclivities  to 


ST  Or   IN    A  YARD. 


45 


irregular  heights.  The  sides  of  these  hills  are  thickly 
studded  with  elegant  mansions,  charmingly  embowered  in 
copses  of  trees.  In  the  bottom  of  the  valley,  and  extend- 
ing up  the  bases  of  the  hills  on  either  side,  is  the  city,  with 
its  cupolas,  towers,  and  spires,  buildings  of  various  colors, 
styles  and  dimensions,  its  ships  and  steamboats,  its  quays 
and  bridges,  and  fine  estuary,  its  several  prisons,  with  ex- 
tensive and  lofty  white  walls,  its  immense  barracks  on  the 
rising  ground  above  the  city,  its  Bishop's  palace,  and  large 
poor-house,  its  churches,  priories,  convents,  monuments  and 
promenades,  all  looking  fresh  and  thrifty,  which  addgreatly 
lo  the  variety  and  beauty  of  the  picture. 

"  Seen  from  this  point,"  says  an  Irish  writer,  "  the  view 
is  the  finest  of  which  any  city  can  boast.  And  did  the 
traveler  stop  here,  he  might  well  exclaim,  '  The  beautiful 
city  of  Cork !'  But  what  appears  at  a  distance  so  beau- 
tiful and  imposing,  will  not  admit  of  a  nearer  survey.  The 
streets  and  lanes  have  been  built  without  the  least  regard 
to  order,  comfort,  access,  cleanliness,  or  convenience  ;  and, 
consequently,  they  abound  in  the  most  disgusting  filth,  and 
exhibit  more  than  their  ample  quota  of  the  most  squalid 
poverty." 

This  remark  does  not  apply  to  all  parts  of  the  town  ; 
for,  in  some  portions  of  it,  the  houses  are  well  built,  and 
the  streets  wide,  neat,  and  handsome. 

Our  coach  carried  us  through  divers  streets  and  lanes, 
stopping  only  at  the  Post  Office,  till  it  brought  up  in  a  small 
yard  adjoining  the  stable.  Here  the  passengers  and  bag- 
gage were  discharged, — after  a  gentle  tip  of  the  hat  from  the 
driver,  meaning  a  shilling  a-piece  to  pay  him  for  driving  us 
here,  after  having  paid  the  proprietor  a  high  fare  for  the 
use  of  his  horses — to  be  pirated  away  by  the  runners  of  the 
hotels,  who  are,  if  possible,  more  impertinent  than  the  same 
class  of  annoyances  at  home.  After  a  brief  consultation, 
we  concluded  to  go  to  the  "  Royal,"  seeing  we  were  in  the 
Queen's  dominions,  and  at  a  time  when  it  would  be  no 
favorable  sign  to  be  suspected  of  disloyalty. 


46 


EMPLOYMENT   OF  TIME. 


We  started  out  immediately  on  our  business — to  see  the 
town;  for  we  left  home  with  no  intention  of  spending  our 
time  and  money  in  idleness,  but  resolved  to  make  the  best 
possible  use  of  both,  in  a  way  to  gain  the  greatest  amount 
of  knowledge  in  the  time  appointed,  and  at  the  least  actual 
expense.  Our  time  and  means  were  limited  ;  and  both  have 
a  value  which  should  never  be  squandered  by  any  one  for 
sluggish  ease,  or  trifling  pleasures.  The  active  and  judi- 
cious pursuit  of  knowledge  and  happiness,  under  all  cir- 
cumstances, and  with  any  amount  of  means,  always  gives 
the  best  capacity  to  relish  them  if  attained,  or  to  bear  dis- 
appointment in  case  of  failure.  It  is  only  after  years  of 
toil,  and  an  economy  amounting  almost  to  parsimony,  that 
I  have  been  able  to  start  upon  this  journey — the  dream  and 
hope  of  my  youth,  and  the  plan  of  my  maturer  years. 
And  I  am  now  fully  resolved  to  lose  no  time  which  can  be 
appropriated  to  the  acquisition  of  information,  so  long  and 
so  ardently  desired.  Mine  shall  be  made,  if  possible,  a  tour 
of  pleasure  indeed — a  pleasure  which  shall  not  end  when 
the  mere  excitement  of  seeing  is.  over,  but  be  reawakened 
when  memory  recalls  the  past  at  the  instance  of  judgment, 
demanding  an  equivalent  for  this  absence  and  expenditure. 

The  pleasure  of  acquiring  is  not  the  only  aim  of  a  true 
heart.  The  ability  to  possess,  to  employ,  to  make  useful, 
are  of  equal  importance.  The  former  has  been  too  con- 
stantly pursued  by  our  countrymen,  perhaps,  while  the  lat- 
ter has  not  received  the  attention  it  deserves.  But  such  is 
the  natural  course  of  things  with  the  inexperienced  and 
aspiring.  Our  nation  is  young.  Most  of  her  citizens  are 
poor,  but  enterprising,  with  an  open  chance  before  them 
for  distinction  in  whatever  they  may  undertake.  There 
are  no  laws  of  entailment  and  primogeniture,  to  destroy 
their  ambition  or  crush  their  efforts.  There  is  no  heredi- 
tary aristocracy,  no  qualities  of  blood,  to  encourage  indo- 
lence, or  justify  oppression.  The  road  to  distinction  is 
open  to  all,  and  every  man  is  made  self-dependent  for  his 


A   NEW  FRIEND. 


47 


success.,  and  self-responsible  for  his  failure.  It  is  not  strange, 
if,  under  such  a  state  of  things,  of  comparatively  recent 
adoption,  some  should  become  superlatively  selfish,  and  de- 
vote all  their  energies  to  the  mere  acquisition  of  wealth  or 
personal  fame  ;  while  the  next,  or  third,  in  succession,  pam- 
pered, perhaps,  in  idleness,  with  no  ability  to  appreciate  the 
value  of  means  bequeathed  to  him,  should  waste  his  sub- 
stance in  irrational  and  hurtful  gratifications.  But  those 
whose  bodies  have  sweat  to  earn,  and  whose  minds  have 
been  studious  to  employ,  will  be  most  likely  to  receive  with 
thankfulness  and  occupy  with  discretion,  the  means  and 
opportunities  which  may  fall  to  their  lot,  and  in  a  way  to 
promote  the  objects  of  a  true  life,  by  laying  up  stores  of 
practical  knowledge,  which  shall  be  to  them  and  their  friends 
a  source  of  rich  enjoyment  in  after  years. 

After  wandering  through  a  few  streets,  we  came  to  several 
book  stands,  beside  the  paling  of  the  court-house.  While 
consulting  about  some  books  and  maps,  a  well-dressed  gentle- 
man stopped  near  us,  of  whom  I  inquired  for  an  individual 
to  whom  I  had  a  letter.  He  at  once  replied,  in  a  manner 
that  indicated  more  than  ordinary  interest  in  us.  bv  saving 
that  he  did  not  exactly  know  the  residence  inquired  for.  but 
that,  with  our  consent,  he  would  take  it  upon  him  to  find  the 
place  tor  us.  He  said  he  perceived  we  were  strangers,  and 
Americans  ;  and  that  he  felt  a  high  respect  for  our  coun- 
try, and  gratitude  for  the  noble  exhibition  of  benevolence 
on  the  part  of  its  citizens,  in  sending  such  a  bountiful  sup- 
ply of  provisions  to  feed  the  starving  thousands  of  his 
wretched  countrymen,  during  the  terrible  famine  of  winter 
betore  last  ;  that  he  was  anxious  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  every  American,  and  to  do  every  thing  in  his  power  to 
serve  them  ;  that  he  wanted  to  embrace  every  opportunitv 
to  let  them  know  the  strength  of  Irish  gratitude  ;  and  that 
if  he  could  be  of  any  service  to  us  bv  showing  us  about 
the  city,  introducing  us  to  public  places,  or  in  any  other 


48 


GRATITUDE   FOR  AMERICAN  CHARITY. 


way,  we  might  command  his  time,  for  he  should  be  most 
happy  to  aid  us  in  promoting  the  objects  of  our  visit. 

We  were  overwhelmed  by  the  suddenness  and  extent  of 
this  expression  of  friendship,  and  for  a  time  did  not  know 
how  to  regard  it ;  whether  it  was  really  in  earnest ;  whether 
it  was  mere  "  blarney," — for  we  had  heard  that  Blarney 
castle  was  not  far  off — or  whether  he  was  not  a  genteel 
blackleg,  the  like  of  some  in  our  own  country — mostly  of 
loreign  importation — who  was  making  these  advances  to 
secure  our  confidence  and  obtain  an  opportunity  to  rifle 
our  pockets.  We  could  not  do  less  than  accept  his  prof- 
fered service  to  show  us  to  the  place  wTe  were  seeking ; 
and  so,  expressing  our  thankfulness  for  his  attention,  we 
walked  on  in  company.  A  few  moments  conversation  suf- 
ficed to  disarm  all  our  suspicions,  and  convince  us  of  the 
purity  of  his  heart  and  the  sincerity  of  his  pretensions.  He 
related  to  us  the  circumstances  of  his  visit  to  the  Macedo- 
nian, Commodore  De  Kay,  sent  out  by  our  government 
with  the  contributions  of  our  citizens  for  the  relief  of  the, 
then,  famishing  poor  of  his  country,  himself  being  one  of 
the  committee  for  the  reception  and  distribution  of  this 
generous,  timely,  and  life-preserving  bequest.  The  news 
of  the  arrival  of  this  vessel,  with  its  freight  of  food,  at  once 
attracted  the  destitute  from  a  large  portion  of  the  surround- 
ing country  and,  while  detailing  to  us  the  circumstances  at- 
tending the  dispensation  of  it  to  the  perishing,  his  faltering 
voice  and  moistened  eyes,  evinced  how  deep  was  his  gra- 
titude and  how  lively  the  recollection  of  the  misery  which 
such  timely  relief  served  to  mitigate  and  remove.  Fathers 
looked  on  their  sons  with  contentment  and  hope,  as  they 
planned  the  means  for  them  to  get  to  America,  and  mothers 
clasped  their  little  ones  to  their  heaving  bosoms  with  all 
their  remaining  strength,  and  whispered  to  them  lullabies 
about  the  blessing  and  abundance  of  America,  to  which 
they  prayed  they  might,  some  time,  go,  with  as  much  fer- 
vor as  they  ever  prayed  for  the  bliss  of  heaven. 


UNEXPECTED  ATTENTION'?. 


49 


Nothing  so  much  relaxes  the  feeling  of  selfishness,  de- 
stroys  the  pride  of  nationality  and  knits  the  cords  of  friend- 
ship, as  the  recital  of  scenes  which  appeal  to  our  common 
humanity,  which  stir  up  the  deeper  and  holier  affections, 
and  quicken  the  course  of  generous  feelings,  too  long  con- 
gested and  sluggish  in  their  motions.  The  thick  shell  is 
broken  ;  the  doors  of  the  dark  dungeon  thrown  wide  open 
and  one  breathes  freer  and  feels  happier.  Every  thing  ap- 
pears more  serene  and  lovely.  All  creation  is  beautiful ! 
Nothing  seems  hateful  ;  and  every  feeling  of  dislike,  or 
thought  of  evil,  is  banished.  The  attractive  power  of  good- 
ness predominates.  Sympathies  blend  in  perfect  recipro- 
citv.  All  distinctions  are  lost.  The  soul  feels  something 
of  heaven  in  that  hour,  and  aspires  after  the  holy  and  the 
infinite.  It  is  qualified  to  receive  and  appropriate  the 
great  truth  that  God  is  our  Father  and  all  mankind  our 
brethren. 

Our  new  made  friend  was  not  content  with  having  ful- 
filled his  promise,  but  he  entertained  my  companions  while 
I  did  an  errand  of  friendship  between  a  brother  in  x\merica 
and  his  sister,  now  living  in  this  city.  He  conducted  us 
through  the  Mardyke — a  beautiful  promenade,  a  mile  in 
length,  raised  several  feet  above  the  low,  marshy  meadows 
and  shaded  with  double  rows  of  elms  on  each  side — to  the 
hydraulic  works,  constructed  something  on  the  plan  of 
Fairmount,  by  which  the  water* is  forced  from  the  river  to  a 
reservoir  on  the  side  of  the  hill  sufficiently  elevated  to  sup- 
ply all  the  lower  parts  of  the  city.  From  here  we  followed 
our  new  friend  to  Sundav's  well,  celebrated  in  olden  time  for 
its  miraculous  healing  properties,  and  even  now  revered  on 
the  same  account,  by  some  deluded  votaries  of  the  Romish 
Church  Continuing  our  course  along  the  northern  side  of 
the  city,  the  jail  and  various  public  buildings  were  passed, 
which  brought  us  to  the  stone  quays  spanned  by  some  fine 
bridges.  Here  we  were  introduced  to  the  captain  of  an 
American  ship,  who,  having  discharged  a  freight  of  grain, 
was  busy  in  taking  on  board  a  return  cargo  of  living  Irish- 


50 


A    WEARISOME  WALK. 


men.  Indeed,  humanity  seems  to  be  the  principal  surplus 
commodity  in  port,  and  stowed  away  according  to  the 
preparations  being  made,  despite  the  stringency  of  our  laws 
regarding  room,  provisions,  ventillation  and  cleanliness,  will 
doubtless,  pay  better  than  any  other. 

Our  generous  conductor,  learning  that  our  stay  was  to 
be  limited  in  Cork  to  a  single  day,  was  determined  that  we 
should  make  the  very  best  use  of  our  time  and  legs,  which 
latter  important  adjuncts,  having  been  so  long  used  to  the 
inactivity  of  shipboard,  threatened  to  rebel  by  refusing  sup- 
port to  sustain  our  curiosity  and  aid  the  rapid  and  exten- 
sive movements  to  which  our  guide  was  urging  us. 
But  each  wras  ashamed  to  be  the  first  to  complain  of  fatigue, 
and  so  we  kept  moving  as  rapidly  as  we  could,  to  avoid 
all  suspicion  of  any  halting  disposition.  Now  that  the 
pride  and  ambition  of  that  day  are  passed,  I  am  free  to  con- 
fess that  I  did  suffer  beyond  measure.  It  seemed  to  me, 
several  times,  that  I  could  not  go  a  step  further,  but  must 
sit  down  where  I  was  and  own  myself  outrun.  Then  the 
glances  of  my  companions,  as  tired  as  myself,  but  anxious 
to  note  the  first  sign  of  faltering,  to  divert  attention  from 
their  own  weaknesses,  would  rouse  up  all  my  flagging  ener- 
gies, to  make  renewed  efforts.  And  thus  we  kept  on  till 
two  o'clock,  wrhen  our  kind-hearted  friend  bethought  him- 
self that  we  might  be  tired,  and  proposed  to  take  us  to  his 
house,  not  far  off,  and  give  us  a  "  lunch."  He  insisted  upon 
it  and  we  assented. 

He  conducted  us  along  the  left  shore  of  the  river  below 
the  city,  to  a  row  of  new  and  pleasantly  situated  houses, 
built  on  the  side  of  the  hill  with  prettily  ornamented 
yards  in  front.  The  road  wras  close  upon  the  bank 
of  the  river  which  is  here  walled  up  in  the  manner 
of  a  pier.  Behind,  the  steeply  ascending  ground  is  beauti- 
fully ornamented  with  shade  trees,  hedges,  gardens  and  pri- 
vate residences.  Before,  the  navigable  part  of  the  river 
runs  close  to  the  shore,  beyond  which  is  an  extensive 
flat  which  is  bare  at  low  tides.    On  the  opposite  side  the 


A  LUNCH. 


51 


country  swells  off  in  agreeably  ascending  undulations, 
which  are  studded  with  elegant  mansions  and  fine  planta- 
tions. Far  down  the  frith  appears  the  castle  of  "  Carragh 
Duyv/'  (Black  Rock.)  and  the  haven  of  the  famed  and 
beautiful  Cove.  On  the  right  is  spread  out  the  whole  city, 
with  its  shipping,  bridges,  and  principal  buildings  in  sight. 

I  am  particular  in  this  description  to  show  that  Irishmen 
are  not  devoid  of  taste,  nor  the  means  of  gratifying  it,  but 
that  so  far  as  they  have  the  means,  the  arts  of  civilization 
are  employed  for  the  promotion  of  solid  comfort  and  the 
higher  sources  of  rational  happiness. 

We  were  introduced  into  a  dwelling  every  way  comfort- 
able and  moderately  elegant,  and  received  a  very  cordial 
welcome  from  Mrs.  H — ,  when  her  husband  informed  her 
that  we  were  Americans.  She  soon  ordered  the  table  to 
be  spread,  and  a  lunch  placed  upon  it.  A  large  cubic  loaf 
of  white  bread — say  ten  inches  square  ;  the  quarter  of  an 
American  cheese — esteemed  here  a  great  luxury ;  some 
butter  ;  a  common  glass  bottle  of  whiskey,  writh  water,  su- 
gar, tumblers,  and  knives,  wrere  all  duly  arranged.  No 
chairs  were  placed  about  the  table.  We  were  asked  to 
"  sit  up  and  help  ourselves."  Our  host  unstoppled  the  bottle, 
and  reached  it  over  towards  our  tumblers.  Two  of  us  re- 
fused, as  contrary  to  our  Temperance  principles.  This  led 
to  a  general  conversation  upon  the  subject  of  temperance, 
during  which  the  manner,  benefits,  and  over-estimate  of  Fa- 
ther Mathew's  labors  were  commented  upon,  and  the  great 
good  that  had  resulted  to  Ireland,  and  America,  and  other 
nations.  We  soon  found  that  our  friend,  though  generally 
liberal  in  his  views,  was  ardent  in  his  opposition  to  Catholi- 
cism, attributing  a  large  share  of  his  country's  miserv  and 
degradation  to  the  bad,  but  all-controling  influence  of  the 
Romish  priests,  who,  he  said,  "  instead  of  striving  to  en- 
lighten their  minds  and  improve  their  condition,  are  doing 
all  they  can  to  keep  them  in  ignorance,  and  prejudice  them 
against  the  English  government,  and  Protestantism,  and  the 
English  generally." 


52 


A  CONVERSATION. 


It  required  very  little  attention  to  see  that  a  strong  feel- 
ing of  prejudice  existed  in  his  mind  on  these  subjects,  and 
so  we  passed  away  from  them  as  soon  and  as  adroitly  as 
we  could,  but  not  without  remarking  that  in  many  things 
we  thought  the  government  oppressive,  especially  in  the 
matter  of  tithes,  by  compelling  the  people  to  help  support 
doctrines  they  do  not  believe,  and  their  own  beside.  Yet 
we  confessed  our  inability  to  pass  judgment  on  these  sub- 
jects till  better  informed. 

The  condition  and  prospects  of  this  country,  the  designs 
of  the  "  Repealers,"  and  the  probable  result  of  the  growing 
excitement  upon  that  subject,  the  expected  interference  of 
France  and  America,  were  all  considered  during  the  time 
we  remained  with  him.  On  all  those  topics  connected  with 
his  country,  our  friend  exhibited  a  feeling  of  gloom  and  ap- 
prehension ;  but  when  our  own  country,  its  history,  condi- 
tion and  prospects,  were  touched  upon,  his  manner  under- 
went a  complete  metamorphosis ;  his  countenance  bright- 
ened, his  words  were  quicker  and  freer,  and  he  was  mani- 
festly relieved  from  troublesome  anxieties.  He  many 
times  spoke  of  his  desires  and  plans  to  emigrate  to  our 
country,  with  many  parts  of  which  he  had  become  familiar, 
by  reading,  and  of  all  of  which  he  spoke  in  the  most  en- 
thusiastic terms.  In  many  things,  his  imagination  far  out- 
reached  the  reality,  and  we  told  him  so.  This  pleased  his 
wife,  and  we  soon  learned  the  cause  why  his  plans  were  not 
put  in  execution.  His  wife  was  an  English  woman,  by 
whom  he  had  received  some  property,  and  as  is  the  case 
with  some  of  her  nation,  she  wears,  in  technical  parlance,  a 
certain  kind  of  garment,  which  is  emblematic  of  authority, 
usurped  or  rightful,  I  shall  not  here  decide.  There  seems 
to  be  nothing  unnatural  or  inappropriate  in  such  exercise 
of  power,  seeing  her  Royal  Majesty  rules  his  Royal  High- 
ness, it  is  said,  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  plays  the  Queen  over 
the  greatest  men  of  the  "  greatest  nation  on  earth ;  on 
whose  dominion  the  sun  never  sets." 

Having  rested  and  refreshed  ourselves,  we  begged  to  be 


A   CAR  RIDE. 


53 


excused.  Our  friend  at  once  assented,  but  not  without  vol- 
unteering his  services,  much  to  the  discomfort  of  our  neth- 
er limbs,  to  conduct  us  up  the  hill,  back  of  his  residence,  by 
which  we  gained  an  extensive  and  beautiful  view  of  all  the 
city  and  country,  in  every  direction,  from  the  Cove  to  the 
mountains  far  inland,  and  to  the  vast  tunnel  which  is  in  pro- 
cess of  excavation  for  the  South  Western  Railroad.  Here 
he  left  us,  promising  to  call  for  us  as  soon  as  we  should  re- 
turn from  Blarney  castle,  which  two  of  us  had  resolved  to 
visit ;  the  other  prefering  repose  to  more  sight- seeing,  just 
at  that  time. 

We  bargained  for  an  "  outside  car,"  of  one  of  the  many 
drivers  standing  in  the  street,  who,  like  the  cab-men  about 
steamboat  landings,  are  exceedingly  kind  to  offer  and  insist 
upon  the  acceptance  of  their  services  ;  promising  to  do,  in 
the  best  manner  and  at  the  cheapest  rate,  all  that  is  asked 
of  them  in  any  length  of  time  one  chooses  to  mention. 
In  this  instance,  the  distance  was  six  or  seven  miles  :  the 
time  to  be  one  hour  out,  one  there,  and  one  back  :  the 
price,  a  crown.  All  this  seemed  probable  enough  ;  but  the 
result  disappointed  us  in  every  particular.  The  miles  were 
in  Irish  measure,  being  to  ours  as  eleven  to  fourteen.  The 
road,  though  excellent,  is  very  hilly ;  so,  instead  of  three 
we  were  nearly  five  hours,  and  instead  of  a  crown,  a  "  shil- 
lun  "  was  demanded  of  each  in  addition  for  driver's  fee.  For 
all  this  we  were  abundantly  repaid,  by  the  novelty  of  our  ve- 
hicle, the  beauty  and  variety  of  the  scenery,  and  the  altogether 
new  impressions  we  gained  from  this,  our  first  visit  to  an 
old  feudal  castle.  And  we  were,  withal,  fortunate  in  our 
choice;  not  so  much  on  account  of  the  peculiar  virtues 
said  to  be  imparted  to  those  who  visit  this  castle  and  kiss 
the  famed  "  Blarnev  stone,"  as  from  the  fact  that  it  is  ro- 
mantically  situated,  and  in  an  excellent  state  of  preserva- 
tion, for  one  so  long  forsaken. 

The  carriage  we  had  taken  was  constructed  on  a  plan 
unlike  any  thing  used  in  our  countrv,  though  common  here. 
The  "  inside  car  "  is  somewhat  like  a  single  cab  in  our  cities, 


54 


DESCRIPTION   OF   A  CAR. 


though  differing  in  several  respects.  The  "outside  car'* 
is  less  aristocratic,  but,  in  good  weather,  pleasanter,  and 
hired  at  a  cheaper  rate.  It  consists  of  a  body  placed  upon 
two  wheels,  with  two  seats,  back  to  back,  running  "  fore 
and  aft."  Between  the  two  seats  is  what  is  called  the 
"well,"  formed  of  a  box  eighteen  inches  or  two  feet  wide, 
and,  perhaps,  two  and  a  half  high,  extending  the  length  of 
the  carriage.  Into  this,  baggage  is  packed  when  necessary. 
The  top  and  sides  (of  the  better  class)  are  covered  with 
cloth  and  stuffed,  forming  the  back  of  the  seats.  On  the 
fore  end  of  the  well  is  the  seat  for  the  driver.  Below  the 
seats,  and  extending  outside  the  wheels,  is  a  sort  of  foot- 
board, which  folds  up  into  the  seat,  when  there  are  no 
riders.  The  seats  are  large  enough  for  two,  and,  some- 
times, for  three  or  four  persons  on  a  side,  and  not  unfre- 
quently,  in  case  of  mail  cars,  two  or  three  are  mounted  on 
the  well.  On  roads  of  limited  travel,  these  cars  are  used 
in  place  of  coaches  for  the  accommodation  of  passengers. 
The  carriage  is  placed  upon  elliptical  springs,  and,  on  the 
excellent  macadamised  roads  every  where  to  be  found,  runs 
exceedingly  easy.  We  met  and  passed  several  of  them  on 
our  way  to  and  from  Blarney  castle,  and  were  once  or 
twice  hailed  to  take  on  other  passengers. 

The  road  wound  out  of  the  city,  through  a  narrow  vale 
filled  with  wretched  houses,  apparently  crowded  by  a  most 
miserable  set  of  inhabitants,  many  of  whom  ran  out  to  beg 
of  us  as  we  passed.  There  are  several  small  factories  along 
the  stream  over  which  we  passed.  The  spacious  wrork-house 
stands  in  a  commanding  position  on  the  opposite  ridge,  beyond 
which  are  the  extensive  barracks.  We  soon  commenced  the 
ascent  and  descent  of  several  precipitous  hills,  passing  many 
stone  and  mud  cabins,  with  thatched  roofs,  with  here  and 
there  a  tolerably  pleasant  looking  residence. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  we  found  ourselves  in  a  beautiful 
and  well  cultivated  valley,  adorned  with  pleasant  houses 
and  farms,  on  the  rising  ground  on  the  right,  and  the  gray 
walls  of  the  castle,  towering  high  above  the  surrounding 


A  VILLAGE. 


55 


trees,  at  some  distance  on  the  left.  After  passing  a  small 
village,  containing  an  old  church — romantically  situated  in  a 
grove  of  trees,  like  some  we  have  seen  in  New  England — a 
hotel,  stores,  factories,  mills,  a  few  decent  dwellings  and 
many  poor  ones,  we  turned  off  the  main  road  and  came  to 
the  gate  leading  to  the  castle  grounds.  Before  our  object 
was  made  known,  a  little  girl  started  off  upon  the  run,  for 
what  we  did  not  know.  We  followed  after,  crossed  the 
meadow,  and  ascended  by  what  was  once  a  splendid 
garden,  ornamented  with  shade  trees,  flowers,  shrubs, 
hedges,  graveled  walks,  bordered  with  box,  and  containing 
some  well-worn  images — now  only  used  for  the  commonest 
kind  of  a  kitchen  garden.  On  the  other  side  of  the  road 
is  a  dilapidated  cottage,  with  an  array  of  old  barns,  stables, 
and  sheds,  enclosed  in  a  high,  ivy-clad  wall,  now  used  for 
the  storing  of  grain  and  fodder  for  the  cows  and  sheep 
herded  about  them  in  winter.  From  the  wall  an  extensive 
lawn  spreads  out,  descending  gradually  to  the  south,  shaded 
with  innumerable  large  and  handsome  trees,  and  termina- 
ted by  a  little  lake,  beyond  which  ascend  richly  cultivated 
fields,  in  which  a  great  number  of  men,  women,  and  teams 
were  at  work.  The  whole  scene  wears  an  air  of  freshness 
and  rural  beauty  much  resembling  the  finer  landscapes 
which  border  our  western  prairies. 

Turning  to  the  right,  and  passing  the  high  garden  wall, 
we  came  directly  before  the  castle,  which  now  stands  up  in 
its  lonely  greatness,  frowning  sullenly  upon  the  little  visitors 
whose  curiosity  brings  them  so  far  and  so  late  to  wonder  at 
the  relics  of  departed  majesty.  It  is  a  mighty  pile,  the 
monument  of  other  and  different  days,  but  still  grand  in 
its  desolation,  and  significant  as  the  tombstone  of  those 
who  reared  it.  The  main  shaft,  forming  the  tower,  is 
square,  and  rises  without  a  projecting  base,  directly  from 
the  green  lawn,  rearing  its  gray  walls,  smooth  and  naked, 
on  the  south  and  west,  to  the  height  of  a  hundred  feet 
and  are  surrounded  by  a  projecting  battlement  with  small 
turrets  crowning  each  of  the  four  corners.    There  are  no 


56 


A   LOQUACIOUS  GUIDE. 


doors  or  windows  on  these  sides.  The  north  base  rests 
upon  the  brink  of  a  limestone  ledge,  which  overhangs  the 
vale  and  stream,  some  fifty  feet  below.  On  this  side,  there 
are  several  windows  affording  light  and  prospect  to  suites 
of  small  rooms  in  the  second  and  third  stories.  The  east 
side  of  it  is  faced  by  an  outer  wTall,  which  enclosed  the  main 
dwelling  of  the  castle.  The  inner  wall,  bounding  the  little 
court  next  to  the  massive  tower,  is  all  fallen,  so  that  one 
sees  only  the  outer  enclosure  with  its  numerous  windows, 
some  of  them  of  monstrous  proportions.  A  small  round  tow- 
er projecting  from  I  he  north-east  corner  up  which  wound  the 
cylindrical  stairs  to  the  various  apartments  in  the  different 
stories  of  the  keep.  This,  like  the  main  tower,  and  another 
small  one  standing  at  the  distance  of  a  dozen  rods  to  the  east, 
is  in  a  good  state  of  preservation. 

In  a  short  time,  the  little  girl  returned,  accompanied  by 
an  old  woman,  who  addressed  us  in  broad  Irish,  and  bade 
us  welcome  to  Blarney  castle.  On  hearing  that  we 
were  Americans  she  became  exceedingly  loquacious  and 
attentive,  expressing  ten  thousand  thanks  and  calling 
on  God,  the  Virgin  and  all  the  saints  to  bless  us  and  our 
"  distant  coounthry,"  for  preserving  her  poor  countrymen 
from  the  horrible  death  of  famine.  She  mixed  up  with 
her  expressions  of  gratitude  descriptions  of  the  buildings 
about  us.  "  Sure,  an'  this  hoouse  right  where  ye  stand  was 
the  coort,  and  where  ye  sees  that  great  winder  right  afore 
ye  in  the  second  stoory  was  the  Earl's  banqueting  hall ; 
where  that  winder  bees  by  the  little  tower  was  his  library, 
along  this  side  coming  oop  to  the  tooer,  was  the  two  parlors; 
aboove  all  these  wTas  the  slaping  rooms,  going  clare  round 
to  that,  side  there,  oover  the  gate,  and  oop  to  that  corner  of 
the  tooer.  Och,  we  should  huv  starved,  hadn't  yer  kind 
coonthrymin  been  soo  good  to  us,  soo  mindful  of  our  miseries. 
God  be  praised,  ye  did  us  much  good  ;  an'  sure  no  Irishman 
can  nivir  be  afther  foorgitting  it.  Och,  yes,  that  was  the 
wine  cellar,  oond  that  was  the  kitchen,  where  ye  sees  that 
great  fire-place.     Boot  I'll  shu  ye  kind  gintilmin  these 


BLARNEY  CASTLE. 


when  we've  eoome  doown,  for  ye  will  want  to  goo  to  the 
"Blaarnev  stoone/'  The  old  lady  talked  so  fast  we  couid 
not  utter  a  word  of  inquiry  or  thankfulness. 

She  now  turned  and  unlocked  a  shabby  wooden  door, 
cut  and  hacked  with  letters  and  names,  through  which  we 
entered  the  main  castle,  or  tower.  The  walls,  at  the  base, 
are  seventeen  feet  thick,  receding  as  they  rise  in  each  story. 
The  room  we  entered  was  nearly  square,  perhaps  forty  by 
fifty  feet.  There  were  no  windows  on  either  side.  The  light 
shone  in  through  the  door,  and  dimly  from  an  opening 
through  the  partition  on  the  north  side  which  divided  it  from 
some  rooms  in  that  quarter.  The  ground  was  covered  with 
various  kinds  of  lumber,  ploughs,  harrows,  ladders,  doors, 
boards  and  timber  stored  here,  in  a  most  unseemly  manner. 
At  the  height  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  there  was,  formerly, 
a  floor,  now  fallen,  and  on  the  east,  or  side  next  the  court, 
was  an  elegant  fire-place,  the  marble  jambs  and  ornaments 
of  which  are  still  standing.  On  the  south  side  are  arched 
recesses.  The  arch  over  it  still  remains  at  a  height  of  per- 
haps fifty  feet.  The  whole  was  finished  in  a  very  plain  but 
substantial  manner.  The  room  above,  with  the  elegant 
fire-place,  is  called  the  Earl's  room :  it  has  no  windows  and 
but  two  doors,  one  opening  from  the  stairway,  in  the  north- 
east angle,  and  the  other  into  his  private  apartments  in  the 
north-west.    It  must  have  been  a  dark  hole  to  borough  in 

— ■ 

without  lamps.  The  small  door  by  which  we  entered,  is 
the  only  aperture  on  the  east  front  and  the  only  place  of  in- 
gress or  egress,  except  by  a  narrow  winding  flight  of  steps, 
which  descend  to  the  well,  situated  in  the  north-east  corner 
of  the  outer  buildings,  under  the  library  room,  and  near  the 
dungeon,  with  the  passage  to  which  a  secret  door  connected, 
which  led  by  the  kennel  for  the  bloodhounds,  to  the  valley  on 
the  north  side.  Close  by  this  door  of  entrance,  on  the  right, 
commences  a  flight  of  winding  stone  stairs,  which  lead  to 
the  different  stories,  from  which  doors  open  into  the  several 
rooms  along  the  north  side,  and  into  the  Earl's  room,  and 
into  the  chapel  immediately  over  it.    In  the  north-west 


58 


THE  TOWN. 


corner,  immediately  off  from  the  main  room,  and  in  the  se- 
curest part  of  the  tower  was  the  Earl's  sleeping  and 
dressing  rooms,  which  show  some  little  signs  of  taste  and 
comfort,  as  well  as  safety.  The  roof  of  the  chapel  is  fallen 
in,  and  the  floor  is  covered  with  a  mass  of  rubbish,  among 
which  various  shrubs,  and  vines,  and  grass  are  growing,  and 
one  or  two  trees  more  than  ten  feet  high.  The  walls  of  the 
chapel,  which  form  the  summit  of  the  tower,  are  ascended 
by  narrow  stairs  in  the  north-east  and  north-west  corners. 
The  latter  passes  from  a  small  room  with  a  large  fire-place 
where  our  garrulous  conductress  said  they  cooked  in  time 
of  a  siege,  and  prepared  melted  lead,  scalding  water  and 
red  hot  stones  to  cast  down  from  the  battlements  upon  the 
assailing  foe.  The  old  lady  tugged  up  to  the  very  top,  puff- 
ing like  a  Mississippi  steamboat — a  thing  she  had  not  "  doon 
in  a  twelvemoonth,  an'  sure  one  she  would  not  now  be  af- 
ther  doing,  boot  for  the  rispict  she  felt  in  her  shoul  foor 
these  blissid  gintilmin  from  Ameriky." 

Around  the  top  of  the  tower  is  a  projecting  battlement, 
resting  upon  large  stones,  which- project  from  the  corners 
of  the  main  wall,  three  or  four  feet  below  the  summit,  and 
at  distances  of  six  or  eight  feet  from  each  other.  This 
outer  parapet  rises  higher  than  the  main  wall,  and  at  a  dis- 
tance of  two  feet  or  more,  leaving  apertures  down  which 
darts,  javelins,  melted  lead,  red  hot  stones,  boiling  water, 
and  other  missiles  of  destruction  could  be  hurled  upon  an 
enemy  who  should  venture  to  assail  and  attempt  to  batter 
down  the  walls. 

This  mode  of  defence  was  of  little  service  after  the  in- 
vention of  gunpowder,  as  the  broken  stone  upon  the  south 
battlement  shows ;  for  when  Oliver  Cromwell  came  this 
way  with  the  army  of  the  Commonwealth,  and  planted  his 
cannon  upon  the  rising  ground  which  commands  the  castle, 
and  fired  a  few  thirty-two  pounders,  which  fractured  the 
stone  now  sustained  by  a  band  of  iron,  the  great  McCarthy 
was  compelled  to  hold  out  the  white  flag  and  surrender  at 
discretion.    This  was  the  winding  up  of  feudalism  in  these 


THE   FOUNDATIONS   OF  WEALTH. 


59 


parts,  and  there  has  since  been  no  real  use  for  these  cas- 
tles ;  though  this,  and  some  others  which  were  not  much 
injured,  continued  to  be  inhabited  for  many  years.  A  few 
are  so  still,  but  none  of  them  possess  the  aristocratic  pride 
and  power  once  enjoyed.  There  is  no  more  use  for  them. 
The  masses  have  searched  for  and  found  the  sources  of 
power,  and  a  feudal  lord  can  no  longer  hold  his  vassals  in  a 
state  of  complete  surveillance,  or  lead  them  to  war  against 
other  clans  at  will.  Civil  law,  extended  over  the  nation, 
investing  the  general  government  with  executive  authority, 
forbids  the  exercise  of  feudal  power  by  lords  and  barons,  so 
that  these  shelters  are  no  longer  needed  to  protect  the  heads 
of  clans  in  times  of  petty  wars. 

At  present,  this  castle  is  the  property  of  a  Mr.  Jeffreys, 
who  takes  little  pains  to  preserve  it  from  decay,  or  keep  it 
in  a  comfortable  condition  for  visitors.  The  ';  god  of  war  " 
has  been  exchanged  for  the  u  golden  calf,"  which  receives  a 
devouter  homage  and  a  costlier  sacrifice  than  the  former 
ever  did.  The  sacrifices  are  not  the  fresh  blood  freelv 
spilled  in  valorous  deeds  of  chivalry,  nor  the  hideous  tor- 
tures of  savage  barbarity,  which  have  marked  the  ages  that 
are  past.  They  are  the  wearing,  tearing,  carking  cares  of 
money-gelting,  which  eat  into  men's  souls,  and,  like  a  stimu- 
lating drink,  urge  forward  in  courses  of  extravagance  at 
first  never  contemplated.  The  vassals  are  no  longer  led  to 
battle,  weaponed  and  fed,  at  the  lord's  expense.  They  are 
sent  into  the  field  to  work  and  starve.  The  will  is  con- 
quered, and  a  tame  submission  to  oppression  long  enforced, 
has  destroyed  all  consciousness  of  sell-dignity  and  hope  of 
social  redemption,  so  that  the  peasantry,  or  vassals,  now 
live  in  a  condition  of  constant  dependence  and  patronage 
more  servile  and  humiliating;  than  existed  in  the  sunniest 
days  of  feudalism.  The  lords  have  become  more  selfish, 
aristocratic,  more  ease-loving,  and,  in  consequence,  less 
mindful  of  the  wants,  comfort,  and  honor  of  their  depend- 
ents. Before,  they  loved  their  subjects  as  a  groom  does 
his  horse,  for  show  or  speed,  and  so  kept  them  fat  and  sleek. 


GO 


CONVERSATION    WITH  ENGLISHMEN. 


Now  they  love  them  for  the  work  they  do,  the  rents  and 
profits  which  they  pay,  and  are  more  careless  of  them  than 
a  merchant,  is  of  a  hired  cartman's  mule.  Of  course,  ex- 
ceptions are  to  be  made  in  favor  of  those  who  have  hearts 
of  humanity,  influenced  by  that  love  so  forcibly  inculcated 
in  the  Christian  religion,  which  moves  some  of  them  to  act 
honorably  and  humanely.  The  owner  of  this  property,  the 
old  lady  tells  us,  is  one  of  this  kind ;  and  the  general  ap- 
pearance of  the  lands  and  people  induce  me  to  believe 
there  is  some  truth  in  her  testimony. 

On  reaching  the  top  of  the  tower,  we  found  three  Eng- 
lishmen, who  had  ascended  some  time  before  us.  They 
were  regaling  themselves  with  anecdotes,  cigars,  and  the 
beautiful  scenery.  When  told  we  were  from  America, 
they  inquired  about  the  appearance  of  our  country,  its  cu- 
riosities and  antiquities,  seeming  to  pride  themselves  that 
we  had  no  ancient  ruins  to  compare  with  theirs.  We  were 
compelled  to  own  we  had  no  such  proofs  of  former  folly 
and  wrong  ;  that  all  that  is  great  with  us  is  modern  and 
republican,  being  owned  and  shared  by  all.  But,  feeling 
our  pride  chafed  a  little  by  the  manner  in  which  they  spoke 
to  us,  we  remarked  that  America  could  boast  antiquities 
more  ancient  than  the  pen  of  history,  traditionary  ballads, 
or  fable  had  penetrated  ;  the  skeletons  of  animals  more  stu- 
pendous than  could  any  where  else  be  found,  indicating 
that  our  country  had  been  the  home  of  giant  races,  of 
which  the  world  was  no  more  worthy,  and  of  which  the 
pigmies  of  the  present  day  can  form  but  indistinct  ideas. 
They  were  silenced  by  our  recital,  when  we  referred  to 
our  rivers,  lakes,  cataracts,  mounds,  and  other  relics,  and 
seemed  to  regard  us  as  more  worthy  of  their  acquaint- 
ance, at  least.  They  soon  turned  the  conversation  upon 
the  mutual  interests  and  dependencies  of  the  two  countries. 

Among  the  many  delightful  views  afforded  by  our  ele- 
vated position,  was  a  Hydropathic  establishment,  situated 
on  a  beautiful  slope,  a  mile  or  so  distant,  in  a  north- westerly 
direction.     It   is  embowered   in  charming  shade  trees, 


THE   BLARNEY  STONE. 


61 


among  which  the  inmates  could  be  seen,  by  the  help  of  a 
glass,  exercising  in  playful  gayety.  This  object  led  to  a 
description  of  the  dangerous  practices  pursued  there,  pend- 
ing the  discussion  of  which  we  signified  our  intention  to 
descend. 

"  Ah,  boot  an'  sure  yer  riverince  will  not  be  afther  laving 
afoore  he's  kessed  the  Blaarney  stone.  Noo  boody  laves 
without  it,"  said  the  loquacious  old  dame,  who  was  so  well 
rested  that  she  could  talk  as  garrulously  as  ever. 

"  Where  is  the  famed  Blarney  stone  ?  I  would  like  to  see 
it." 

"  An'  kiss  it,  oov  coorse,  or  it  will  be  of  no  good  to  ye  at 
all,  at  all.  All  gintilmin  does  so,  foor  why  else  should  they 
be  afther  cooming  heer  so  fur.  I  will  shoo  ye,  though  it 
bes  a  long  time  sence  I  climbed  oop  to  it ;  but  as  ye  bes 
coome  so  fur  froom  Ameriky,  that  blissed  coountry,  I  will 
be  afther  doing  it  for  ye.    Here,  this  way." 

She  led  us  up  a  narrow  flight  of  winding  stairs,  which 
conducted  to  the  top  of  the  wall,  from  which  a  few  steps 
ascended,  on  the  outside,  to  the  top  of  the  small  turret  rising 
from  the  battlement,  and  main  wall,  on  the  north-east  corner 
of  the  tower  to  the  height  of  eisrht  or  ten  feet.  In  the  cen- 
ter  of  the  top  of  this  turret,  is  a  small  blue-stone  boulder,  it 
may  be  a  foot  or  more  in  diameter,  imbedded  in  the  mason- 
ry, and  elevated  a  little  above  the  surface,  with  some  un- 
readable characters  roughly  cut  upon  it,  but  nearly  oblite- 
rated. 

"  There,  that  bes  it,  an'  ye  moost  kess  it  thra  times." 

"  Why,  what  good  will  it  do  to  kiss  it  three  times  ?  Is 
not  once  sufficient  ?" 

"  Oh,  noo,  niver  a  bit ;  foor  all  that  coome  here  kess  it 
thra  times  ;  surely  they  do.  They  niver  goo  away  withoot 
it." 

"  Pray  tell  me,  good  woman,  what  the  use  is  in  kissing  it 
at  all.  Will  it  make  me  rich,  or  wise,  or  good,  or  happy  ? 
What  will  it  do  for  me  ?" 

"  An  that  I  can  noo  be  afther  telling  ye,  any  hoo.  But 

6 


02 


ITS   PECULIAR  VIRTUES. 


I  noo  every  boody  kesses  it,  they  do ;  and  the  great  Saint 
Patrick,  when  the  castle  was  doone,  put  his  hand  on  it,  an 
blessed  it,  and  soome  say  he  laid  it  there.  But  I  don't  noo 
about  it." 

I  tried  every  way  to  find  out  if  she  understood  any  thing 
of  the  virtues  attributed  to  this  famed  stone  in  the  legends 
which  are  told  of  it.  She  seemed  to  be  entirely  ignorant 
of  its  qualities,  and  forgot  that  this  castle  was  built  centu- 
ries after  Saint  Patrick  died ;  but  her  peculiar  loquacity  in- 
dicated that  she  was  not  altogether  a  stranger  to  its  pecu- 
liar virtues  ;  for  her  flatterv  of  us  and  our  country  bordered 
closely  upon  "  blarney,"  or  had  an  inkling  to  the  liberal  pay 
she  expected  of  us.  Waiving  all  scruples,  for  her  sake,  see- 
ing she  had  shown  us  such  particular  attention,  I  stooped 
and  kissed  the  "  Blarney  stone."  Whether  it  was  a  sudden 
effusion  of  the  hidden  virtues  of  the  stone,  or  the  effect  of 
looking  from  a  height  so  giddy  and  fearful,  I  cannot  say ; 
but  I  own  I  felt  a  strange  and  wild  sensation  about  my  head 
and  heart,  and  so  hurried  to  get  down  as  soon  as  possible. 

Of  the  building  and  history  of  Blarney  castle  I  need  not 
write.  Those  curious  to  know  more  about  it,  must,  exam- 
ine the  legends  and  history  of  the  south  of  Ireland.  But 
one  thing  some  may  be  pleased  to  learn  :  that,  from  time 
immemorial,  the  "Blarney  stone"  has  possesedthe  astonish- 
ing power  of  imparting  a  wonderful  charm  to  the  manners 
and  conversational  abilities  of  all  who  kiss  it,  which  ren- 
ders them  peculiarly  persuasive  and  pleasing  to  most  peo- 
ple— a  manner  amounting  not  quite  to  flattery,  neither  stick- 
ing exactly  to  the  rougher  qualities  of  truth  ;  but,  in  a  quiet, 
easy,  soothing  way,  so  insinuating  good  opinions  of  one's  self, 
by  gentle,  unpretending  praises,  and  sweet,  unsuspicious 
words,  that  the  listener  is  won  to  yield  a  willing  and  happy 
assent,  without  much  perplexity  of  judgment  or  injury  to  pride. 
And  this  virtue  is  diffusive,  being  possessed  by  thousands 
who  never  saw  or  heard  of  castle  Blarney  at  all,  but  who, 
either  by  intuition  or  discursively,  have  attained  a  singular 
faculty  of  using  "blarney"  with  as  much  force  and  free- 


ITS   PECULIAR  VIRTUES. 


63 


dom  as  if  they  had  actually  been  here.  And  what  is  wor- 
thy of  note.  also,  is,  that  few  object  to  its  use.  Most  consider 
it  a  praiseworthy  accomplishment  in  themselves  and  oth- 
ers, and  assent  to  its  use  with  a  becoming  degree  of  self- 
complacency.  Like  the  "  braktan  n  set  in  the  wall  of  the 
Kaaba  at  Mecca,  which  is  kissed  seven  times  by  every  Ma- 
hometan hadji,  and  forms  the  Kebla  towards  which  he  turns 
his  face  in  prayer,  the  Blarney  stone  "  has  long  been  an 
object  of  almost  religious  veneration  by  every  wooing  lover 
who  wished  to  win  his  wav  to  the  heart  of  his  ladv-love  ; 
and  to  every  aspirant  for  social  renown,  in  the  lighter  walks 
of  colloquial  intercourse.  "  Blarney  "is  a  much  more 
classic  term  in  its  sound  and  meaning  than  the  vulgar  words 
'•soft-soap,"'  so  common  in  our  country,  though  in  mean- 
ing, there  is,  perhaps,  little  difference.    But  enough  of  this. 

On  descending,  we  passed  down  from  the  court,  through 
the  ruins  of  the  keep,  and  so  round  to  the  north  side,  where 
we  entered  a  passage  which  led  to  the  dungeon,  a  dark  hole 
in  the  shape  of  a  baker  s  oven,  a  dozen  feet  in  diameter, 
and  scarce  high  enough  for  a  short  man  to  stand  erect  in 
the  center.  A  small,  round  aperture,  two  or  three  inches 
across,  perforated  the  roof  and  admitted  the  only  light,  and 
this  came  in  an  angular  direction  through  the  side.  wall. 
A  small  door,  like  an  oven's  mouth,  being  barely  large 
enough  to  thrust  a  man  through,  head  foremost,  opened, 
breast  high,  from  the  passage.  Xear  the  passage  to  thk 
dungeon,  and  connecting  with  it,  are  the  steps  coming  down 
from  the  main  tower,  under  the  foundations  of  the  outer 
buildings  of  the  castles,  and  leading  to  the  well,  still  deeper, 
on  the  right.  By  this  long  flight  a  private  communication 
was  had  between  the  tower,  the  well,  the  dungeon,  and  th- 
yard  bordering  the  north  side  of  the  castle,  the  walls  around 
which  are  now  in  ruins.  Close  by  this  door  is  a  large  dog- 
kennel,  where  the  blood  hounds  were  kept  to  guard  the  pas- 
sage to  the  dungeon.  The  yard  itself  was  said  to  be  for 
the  hunting  hounds. 

A  little  to  the  west  r-f  the  east!e  commences  a  natural 


64 


RETURN   TO  THE  CITY. 


cave,  which  passes  through  the  limestone  cliff,  a  distance, 
it  is  said,  of  half  a  mile,  to  the  small  lake  before  mentioned. 
We  entered  several  rods,  and  broke  off  some  coarse  stalac- 
tites, formed  by  the  water  which  percolates  through  the  ground 
and  drops  constantly  from  the  roof.  But  our  curiosity  was 
not  sufficient  to  induce  us  to  venture,  without  a  light,  over 
the  rough,  wet  stones,  to  any  great  distance.  The  notion  is 
that  this  cave  was  used  to  convey  water  from  the  pond,  and 
as  an  avenue  of  escape,  in  case  of  emergency. 

Having  surveyed  all  parts  of  the  castle,  the  first  thing  of 
the  kind  we  ever  saw,  we  paid  our  conductress  her  "  shiliun" 
and  the  little  girl  who  went  for  her,  a  sixpence,  and  received 
thanks,  and  prayers  for  vast  and  innumerable  blessings  relating 
to  both  this  world  and  the  next.  We  hastened  back  to  the 
gate  and  found  the  keeper  in  waiting  to  open  and  receive  his 
pay.  Leeches  are  thick  about  these  castles.  We  mounted 
our  car  and  returned  by  another  and  more  hilly  and  roman- 
tic road,  which  leads  by  the  splendid  demesnes  of  several 
wealthy  gentlemen  to  the  city,  where  we  arrived  before  sunset. 

Our  friend  had  been  in  waiting  for  us  some  time,  to 
show  us  about  the  city  and  introduce  us  to  Father  Mathew, 
the  celebrated  advocate  of  temperance,  in  whom  much  in- 
terest has  been  felt  in  this  country  and  ours.  I  was  sorry 
to  learn,  as  I  did,  from  numerous  sources,  that  his  popular- 
ity is  not  so  great  at  home,  as  it  was  formerly,  and  that 
many  good  friends  of  temperance  suspect  him  of  interested 
and  ambitious  motives  in  his  labors.  When  did  ever  a  man 
do  good  without  awakening  envy  and  creating  suspicion  ? 
Theobold  Mathew  is  a  Catholic  priest,  educated  for  his 
church  and  undoubtedly  prejudiced,  and  it  may  be  bigoted, 
in  its  favor.  He  .  is,  doubtless,  like  other  men,  made  up  of 
earthly  materials,  which  mcy,  perchance,  influence  him, 
somewhat  as  other  men  are  influenced.  Few  persons  are 
indifferent  to  honest  praise  ;  not  many  to  flattery.  The  con- 
sciousness of  having  done  a  great  and  good  work,  for  which 
multitudes  bless  him  and  many  curse — a  double  reward ! — 
may  induce  a  manner  of  conduct  not  rightly  appreciated 


FATHER   MATH  EW. 


65 


by  all  the  world.  His  friends,  generally,  are  among  the 
humbler  portions  of  the  community  ;  for  there,  as  here,  and 
now  as  of  old,  "not  many  mighty,  not  many  noble," have 
been  called  to  enter  the  ranks  of  temperance.  And  his 
opposers  are  in  his  own  church,  and  among  his  brother 
priests,  as  well  as  among  those  in  other  churches  and  in  the 
higher  and  saver  walks  of  wealth  and  nobilitv.  But  de- 
spite  all  these  influences  he  is  doing  a  good  work  in  his 
way.  Out  of  the  multitudes  who  sign  his  pledge,  some  will 
keep  it  and  be  restored  to  usefulness,  happiness,  and  honor. 
He  deserves  much  praise. 

As  we  approached  his  dwelling,  we  observed  the  knocker 
of  the  door  had  been  wrenched  off  by  violence.  We  sup- 
posed some  foe  of  temperance  had  done  it  in  spite.  Our 
friend  assured  us  that  such  was  not  the  fact ;  that  the  poverty 
and  misery  which  prevailed  so  fearfully  had  driven  many  to 
commit  such  theft  to  prevent  starvation.  He  pointed  out  doors 
robbed  of  knockers,  iron  railings  of  brass  balls,  churches  of 
ornaments.  The  most  daring  robberies  are  committed  in  a 
small  way  by  the  multitudes  who  can  find  no  other  means 
to  keep  soul  and  body  united.  All  over  the  city  are  seen 
proofs  of  destitution  and  wretchedness,  such  as  I  never  con- 
templated before.  What  crimes  have  not  ignorance  and  priests 
led  people  to  commit  ?  How  fearfully  responsible  are  the 
rich  and  proud  oppressors  of  their  fellow-men  for  the  very 
crimes  they  so  loudly  condemn !  And  society  and  government 
are  not  without  fault  in  the  incidental  production  of  those 
crimes  they  so  severely  punish.  The  reward  to  both  are 
troubles  and  anxieties  felt  for  the  insecurity  of  life  and  pro- 
perty, and  the  misery  and  disgrace  amidst  which  they  are 
compelled  to  move.  The  man  who  gives  intoxicating 
drinks  to  a  company,  which  becomes  mad  and  boisterous, 
destroys  his  property  and  maims  his  body,  can  not  easily 
exonerate  himself  from  all  blame  in  the  matter ;  nei- 
ther can  the  community  or  government  which  keeps  a  por- 
tion of  people  in  ignorance  and  povert  v.  by  insufferable  and 

6* 


66 


THE  TEMPERANCE  PLEDGE. 


degrading  exactions.,  be  held  in  complete  exemption  from  all 
accountability.  And  they  are  not  free  from  the  curse  and 
ignominy  which  inevitably  attend  such  a  state  of  things. 
God  deals  with  communities  and  nations,  as  with  individuals. 
None  can  escape  his  judgments. 

On  entering,  we  were  conducted  into  a  very  plain  and 
coarsely  furnished  room,  used  as  a  sort  of  office  for  the 
reception  of  the  innumerable  visitors  of  the  worthy 
priest. 

We  were  asked  to  be  seated  on  some  unpainted  wooden 
benches.  The  clerk  for  Father  Mathew,  who  attends  to  tem- 
perance and  his  friends  in  a  business  way,  was  engaged 
w7ith  a  party  which  had  preceded  us.  As  soon  as  they  left, 
we  inquired  for  the  Apostle  of  temperance,  and  were  in- 
formed that  he  was  out  of  the  city,  tarrying  with  his  bro- 
ther on  account  of  ill-health,  as  he  desired  to  be  relieved 
from  the  cares  to  which  he  was  subjected  when  at  home.  We 
were  shown  his  pledge  and  long  ledger  of  5,710,700  names 
which  have  been  affixed  to  it,  the  number,  age  and  resi- 
dence of  each  signer  being  placed  on  the  margin,  and  the 
date  at  the  head  of  the  page,  after  the  manner  of  a  register 
at  the  hotels.  The  number  increases  at  the  rate  of  twenty 
or  thirty  daily. 

But  manv  sign  it,  wTe  were  told,  who  do  not  consider 
themselves  bound  to  keep  it,  but  merely  as  a  compliment  to 
the  Reformer,  a  remembrance  of  their  visit  to  him,  the  same 
as  they  write  their  names  in  albums  kept  at  places  of  fash- 
hionable  resort.  Still  it  is  presumed  that  a  large  portion  do 
it  from  principle,  with  a  view  to  correct  their  habits,  and 
encourage  a  good  cause,  of  whose  mission  Ireland  has 
much  need,  and  that  the  most  favorable  results  will  be 
experienced.  Indeed,  the  good  fruits  of  this  reform  are  ex- 
tensivelv  seen  in  the  improved  condition  of  the  people  and 
the  better  order  which  prevails  in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom. 
Nobody  denies  this,  but  all  rejoice  at  it.  Yet,  as  in  our  coun- 
try, there  are  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  who  think 
well,  and  speak  well  of  this  great  and  glorious  moral  and 


A   WORK   OF  MERIT. 


67 


social  enterprise,  who  do  nothing  to  advance  it,  and  who  will 
not  partake  of  its  benefits  directly,  but  keep  aloof  from  all 
connexion  with  it,  and  even  lend  their  influence  and  exam- 
ple against  the  labor  of  its  friends  and  advocates,  prefer- 
ing  to  gratify  a  bad  habit,  and  sustain  a  dangerous  practice, 
by  indulging  in  a  whiskey  punch  or  a  social  glass,  whenever 
and  wherever  they  please.  But  it  has  always  been  thus, 
since  the  world  began  to  jog  forward.  Many  great  works 
like  the  tallest  pines  or  mightiest  oaks,  are  of  humble  origin, 
and  doomed,  like  them,  to  endure  the  buffetings  of  many  a 
howling  storm  ;  yet  though  a  good  cause  be  thus  rudely  as- 
sailed, or  obliged  to  contend  against  "  spiritual  wickedness 
in  high  places,"  its  followers  need  not  despond,  for  so 
surely  as  light  dispels  darkness,  so  certain  is  it  that  a  good 
work,  though  commenced  in  tribulation,  shall  be  consum- 
mated in  joy.  The  word  of  God  is  against  all  evil,  and  his 
promise  of  the  triumph  of  right  will  not  fail  to  cheer  the 
hearts  of  those  who  sincerely  labor  for  the  elevation  and 
happiness  of  the  race  of  man. 

Imprudence  and  rashness  are  always  dangerous.  "He 
that  believeth  must  not  make  haste,"  but  be  careful  to  note 
God's  time  in  the  circumstances  wherein  he  is  placed.  He 
may  cease  from  doing,  for  a  time,  and  flee  into  the  wilder- 
ness for  security,  as  the  Prophet  did,  but  he  can  never  be 
indifferent,  nor  lend  his  influence  against  what  is  right — 
what  ought  to  be — what  he  desires  may  be.  He  would  be 
guilty  if  he  did,  and  neither  God  nor  his  own  conscience 
would  hold  him  blameless  for  such  cowardice  or  treachery. 
The  reward  is  for  the  faithful. 

Ireland  and  the  world  have  need  of  many  such  men  as 
Father  Mathew,  to  prepare  human  hearts  to  receive  the 
truth  ;  or,  rather,  to  clear  away  the  deceptions  of  sin  and 
error,  the  force  of  bad  habits,  that  the  truth  may  have  a 
chance  to  reach  men's  hearts  and  do  s^ood  execution  there. 
Intemperance  is  among  the  most  common  and  ruinous 
vices.  Its  consequences  are  direct,  inevitable,  and  diffu- 
sive ;  and ,  hence  the  enormities  of  this  sin,  and  all  the 


68 


AN  IMPORTANT  DISTINCTION. 


flowery  avenues  which  lead  to  it,  can  be  more  easily- 
pointed  out  and  more  readily  shunned.  And  when  once 
the  mind  is  disenthralled  from  a  single  vice,  there  is  reason 
to  hope  it  will  feel  a  truer  freedom  to  pursue  what  is  right ; 
what  is  best ;  what  duty  demands ;  what  our  good,  our 
peace,  our  honor  require,  and  God  approves. 

Such  were  some  of  the  reflections  which  passed  through 
my  mind,  as  I  left  the  humble  abode  of  this  new  light  in 
the  Catholic  priesthood,  and  listened  to  the  different  and 
contradictory  accounts  and  arguments  of  interested  parti- 
zans  in  this  great  movement.  I  can  not  refuse  to  utter  my 
feeble  voice  to  help  swell  the  praises  of  this  man.  He  is 
great  because  he  has  done  much  good.  But  he  is  not  a 
god,  to  be  worshipped  or  obeyed  ;  and  so  I  pity  the  blind- 
ness and  credulity  of  many  of  his  followers  and  admirers. 
He  is  simply  a  Catholic  priest — for  that  I  neither  honor  nor 
despise  him.  He  is  a  philanthropist,  a  lover  of  temperance, 
order,  and  human  happiness.  He  is  a  friend  to  his  poor, 
oppressed  countrymen,  laboring  faithfully  as  he  can,  to  de- 
liver them  from  their  worst  enemy,  the  greatest  tyrant,  the 
curse  of  their  prosperity,  the  ruin  of  their  peace,  and 
to  set  them  in  the  way  of  redemption,  by  guiding  them  to 
sobriety,  virtue,  honesty,  industry,  happiness,  and  honor. 
In  this  enterprize  he  has  burst  out  of  the  shell  of  his  order, 
transcended  the  authority  of  his  superiors,  and,  in  God's 
name,  gone  to  work  a  work  in  behalf  of  his  wretched 
country  and  the  world.  The  man,  the  Christian,  has  risen 
above  the  level  of  the  priest,  and  he  breathes  the  purer  at- 
mosphere of  freedom ;  a  clearer  sky  is  over  him,  and  fairer 
objects  about  him.  I  speak  of  him  as  a  Temperance  man. 
As  such,  I  love,  and  honor,  and  praise  him.  As  a  priest  he 
may  be  tame,  yielding,  or  sycophantic,  bowing  and  cringing 
before  his  bishops,  to  whom  he  sacrifices  his  manhood  to 
retain  his  place.  He  may  sustain  the  errors  of  his  church, 
and  seek  its  ascendency  by  unholy  means.  For  that — if 
so — my  Protestantism  does  not  respect  him.  But  I  can  not 
join  the  cry  against  his  whole  character  on  that  account. 


DESCRIPTION   OF  CORK. 


69 


We  must  learn  to  separate  between  the  wheat  and  the 
chaff — to  discern  practical  goodness  from  theoretical  pro- 
fession, sober  reality  from  idle  form,  active  benevolence 
from  spiritual  quietism.  We  shall  then  have  more  reason  to 
love  and  respect,  and  less  to  hate  and  condemn  our  fellow- 
men.  The  good  we  should  approve,  and  cast  the  bad 
away. 

CITY    OF  CORK. 

Cork  is  the  second  city  in  Ireland  in  respect  to  popula- 
tion and  commercial  importance.  It  contains  over  one 
hundred  thousand  inhabitants,  and  is  the  centre  of  an  ex- 
tensive trade.  Immense  quantities  of  butter  are  exported 
to  England,  more  than  from  any  other  city,  and  a  conside- 
rable amount  of  provisions,  live  stock,  and  agricultural 
produce.  And  the  large  tract  of  country  which  finds  a 
market  here  is  supplied  with  the  various  articles  imported 
from  England  and  other  countries.  It  is  situated  mostly  in 
the  low  bottom  land,  and  separated  by  the  river  Lee  into 
several  islands,  but  extends  up  the  hills  on  either  side. 
Several  fine  bridges  are  thrown  over  the  two  principal 
branches  of  the  river  which  make  the  central  part  of  it  an 
island,  connecting  it  with  the  mainland  A  small  stream 
comes  down  from  the  north-west,  through  a  narrow  valley, 
up  which  a  branch  of  the  city  extends. 

The  city  contains  several  good  and  substantial  public 
buildings,  some  of  which  present  a  fair  show  of  elegance. 
The  county  and  city  court-houses  and  jails ;  the  custom 
house  and  several  banking  houses;  the  chamber  of  com- 
merce and  Mansion  House  appear  well,  as  do  some  of  the 
hotels.  There  are  also  some  large  and  handsome  churches 
scattered  about  the  city.  St.  Finbar's  cathedral,  so  called 
in  honor  of  the  saint  who  founded  the  citv  in  the  seventh 
century,  is  a  large  and  handsome  building,  partly  ancient, 
partly  modern.  It  has  a  lofty  octangular  spire  of  hewn 
stone,  out  of  which,  it  is  said,  Cromwell  took  the  bells  and 


70 


PUBLIC  BUILDINGS. 


converted  them  into  cannon.  Near  the  cathedral,  which 
belongs  to  the  Episcopalians,  is  the  Bishop's  palace  and 
Dean's  court,  elegant  buildings — religion  here  bears  the 
marks  of  royal  favor.  We  could  not  understand  what  was 
meant  by  a  "  Bishop's  palace  and  Dean's  court,"  till  our 
friend  had  enlightened  us  upon  the  subject  of  church  dig- 
nity and  authority.  Around  the  Cathedral  there  is  also  an 
ancient  burial  ground,  containing  the  remains  of  an  innu- 
merable company  of  men,  not  all  unknown  to  fame  in 
church  or  state. 

There  are  also  several  Catholic  churches,  two  or  three 
Methodist,  a  Presbyterian,  Unitarian,  Quaker,  Independ- 
ent, and  some  others.  There  is  a  Franciscan  priory,  with 
a  modern  chapel  and  convent.  The  Dominicans  have  a 
chapel ;  and  also  the  Capuchins,  under  Father  Mathew, 
which,  when  completed,  will  make  a  handsome  appearance; 
for,  in  despite  of  poverty,  intemperance,  and  starvation, 
these  poor  Catholics  find  money  to  build  and  ornament 
large  and  extravagant  churches,  and  endow  convents,  mo- 
nasteries and  nunneries  of  several  orders.  There  are  sev- 
eral literary,  scientific  and  charitable  institutions,  and  man- 
ufacturing establishments  ;  every  thing,  in  short,  which 
goes  to  make  up  a  large  commercial  seaport  town. 

Cork  has  an  excellent  harbor  ;  and  a  vast  expenditure 
has  been  made  to  build  solid  stone  quays,  and  connect  them 
with  the  Cove  by  extensive  improvements  in  the  river, 
which  are  still  in  progress.  Steamboats  ply  between  this 
city  and  London,  Bristol,  Liverpool,  Dublin,  Belfast,  and 
Glasgow,  and  a  fair  array  of  masted  vessels  lay  along  the 
wharves. 

There  is  a  marked  distinction  noticeable  among  the  peo- 
ple, which  I  have  never  been  accustomed  to  see  at  home, 
except  in  some  of  our  colored  population,  and  the  greenest 
Irishmen  who  beg  for  employment.  Business  men  appear 
smart,  active  and  well  informed;  but  the  lower  classes 
bear  the  marks  of  oppression  and  poverty.  They  look  de- 
jected, heart-broken,  and  carry  an  air  of  discontent  and 


LEAVE  CORK. 


71 


suspicion,  which  makes  one  feel  ill  at  ease  among  them. 
Their  very  looks  indicate  their  unhappiness — their  filth 
and  rags  their  poverty.  Numbers  of  them  are  seen  all 
about  the  town,  idle ;  because  they  have  nothing  to  do. 
Beggars  are  met  at  every  turn,  who  promise  liberally,  in 
heaven's  name,  for  the  smallest  pittance  bestowed  upon 
them. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

TO  THE  WEST  OF  IRELAND. 

A  Rainy  Morning. — Red  Coats. — Leave  Cork. — Fine  Scenery. — Old  Castles. 
— The  Conquest  of  Ireland. — Some  Thoughts. — Macroom. — A  Living 
Castle. — Squalid  Misery — Mill-Street. — A  Scene  of  Wretchedness. — A 
Beautiful  Prospect. — Cloghereen. — Description  of  Misery. — Sir  Richard 
Courtney. — Turk  Falls. — A  Grand  View. — Potcheen. — Attendants. — A 
Pedlar. 

WEST    OF  IRELAND. 

May  19. — We  rose  at  an  early  hour,  to  take  another  look 
about  the  city.  The  morning  was  rainy,  and  we  had  taken 
an  outside  seat.  So  our  main  object  was  to  find  an  um- 
brella store,  to  secure  the  means  of  shielding  ourselves  from 
the  storm.  The  stores,  generally,  are  not  opened  before 
eight  o'clock — the  time  we  were  to  start.  Our  Catholic 
companion  had  provided  himself,  the  night  before,  with  a 
mackintosh  overcoat,  and  started  at  midnight  for  Dublin. 
We  had  a  damp  prospect  before  us ;  but  our  spirits  were 
good,  and  our  mortal  man  considerably  rested ;  so  we  did 
not  hesitate  to  start  at  the  appointed  time,  without  an  um- 
brella, for  Killarney. 

We  settled  our  bills  with  the  hostess — the  women  are 
the  clerks  here  ;  men  do  the  waiting — and  asked  her  if  that 
was  all.    She  replied  that  it  was.    But  before  we  had  foirly 


72 


RED-COATS* 


turned  away,  the  head  waiter  demanded  a  "  shillun,'5  and 
the  chambermaid  M  a  shillun,  an'  it  plase  yer  honor."  Boots 
had  seized  our  baggage,  and  started  for  the  coach  office. 
We  had  no  time  to  parley,  and  so  yielded  to  the  demand 
of  forty-five  cents  for  service,  after  paying  for  tea,  bed,  and 
breakfast,  and  twelve  and  a  half  more  to  the  Boots  for  run- 
ning away  with  our  valises. 

Coaches  do  not  call  for  passengers  at  their  houses  or  ho- 
tels, as  is  the  custom  in  our  country.  They  take  them  and 
leave  them  at  their  offices — rain  or  shine ;  rich  or  poor, 
blind  or  halt,  it  is  all  the  same.  If  a  man  can  not  walk,  he 
must  hire  a  conveyance  to  the  office,  and  be  sure  to  be 
there  at  the  moment,  for  the  coach  leaves  as  punctually  as 
our  cars  and  steamboats.  The  rain  was  pouring  down  in 
torrents.  The  coach  was  standing  in  the  yard  without 
any  shelter.  Two  men  seated  with  the  driver.  We  had 
engaged  the  seats  behind  him.  Neither  had  a  cushion. 
A  man  brought  some  straw  and  spread  upon  them,  for  which 
he  demanded  a  contribution.  Three  passengers  mounted 
behind.  Soon  the  red-coat  guard  took  his  seat — a  fat,  gruff 
Englishman — and  commanded  the  driver  to  start. 

I  never  had  much  respect  for  red-coats.  My  grandfather 
taught  me  to  think  ill  of  them.  They  were  always  odious 
in  his  eyes.  Ever  after  he  saw  them  at  Bunker  Hill  and 
Saratoga,  he  never  liked  red.  And  I  had  been  taught  to 
use  the  wTord  "  red-coat  "  as  a  term  of  reproach,  signifying 
an  oppressor,  an  enemy  of  justice  and  right,  one  who 
cared  nothing  for  any  body  but  himseif.  And  what  I  have 
seen  of  them  here  has  not  much  altered  my  opinion.  They 
exhibit  a  proud  and  lofty  manner.  A  smile  is  rarely  seen 
upon  their  lips,  and  few  words  escape  them,  except  of  au- 
thority. Their  answers  are  in  monosyllables,  and  they 
seem  to  take  no  interest  in  any  but  themselves.  Of  course, 
such  men  are  illy  qualified  to  entertain  inquisitive  Yankees, 
who  are  anxious  to  know  all  they  can  about  every  thing 
they  see  or  hear.  Never  mind.  He  pays  strict  attention 
to  his  little  mail-bags,  and  exchanges  one  at  each  post  office 


OLD  CASTLES. 


73 


on  our  route.  It  is  very  well.  That  is  his  business,  for 
which  he  is  paid  and  put  here.  It  does  not  belong  to  his 
office  to  entertain  or  amuse  travelers,  who  may  never  come 
this  way  again,  and  from  whom  he  expects  to  receive  noth- 
ing. What  Englishman  works,  or  talks,  or  fights  without 
pay  ?  We  have  heard  much  of  American  littleness,  but 
we  have  seen  richer  specimens  of  that  article  already  than 
were  ever  found  in  any  part  of  our  country ;  and,  from 
appearances,  there  are  more  to  come. 

Our  road  run  along  side  of  the  Mardyke,  and  near  to  the 
Lee  for  some  distance.  We  passed  Carrigrohon  castle,  sit- 
uated on  a  precipitous  cliff,  formerly  a  stronghold  of  the 
McCarthys,  now  a  pile  of  ruins.  The  clan  of  McCarthy 
once  commanded  all  the  region  about  Cork.  A  little  far- 
ther  on.  we  passed  the  village  of  Ballincollig — a  large  mili- 
tary depot,  with  extensive  gunpowder  mills,  barracks  and 
magazines,  wThich  cover  a  large  area,  with  open  spaces 
about  the  buildings  for  their  greater  safety.  Near  the  vil- 
lage are  the  ruins  of  Ballincollig  castle.  A  mile  or  two 
further  on,  we  passed  the  Inniscarra  church,  and  entered 
into  a  wild  and  picturesque  region  of  country,  not  unlike 
some  scenery  at  home.  The  road  winds  along  the  river, 
between  abrupt  hills,  with  here  and  there  a  small  growth 
of  young  timber,  wild,  uncultivated  lands,  now  ascending  a 
sharp  hill,  or  crossing  a  small  stream,  or  turning  around  a 
dug  way  opening  into  a  pleasant  valley. 

What  adds  most  to  the  beautv  of  the  scenery  and  makes 

mi  mn 

it  more  interesting  to  us,  is  the  numerous  old  castles  scat- 
tered along  the  road,  within  a  few  miles  of  each  other. 
They  generally  stand  on  projecting  cliffs,  or  points  of  land 
extending  into  the  valley.  Few  of  them  were  built  upon  the 
summits  of  hills  or  pointed  elevations.  No  thought  was 
bestowed  upon  an  attack  by  fire  arms,  for  such  destructive 
weapons  had  not  been  invented  at  the  time  of  their  erection. 
Hence  they  became  an  easy  prey  to  the  army  of  Cromwell. 
After  a  few  exploits  of  his  about  Kilkenny,  Cork,  Limerick, 

7 


74 


FEU  DA  I  j  DEFENCES  USELESS. 


and  a  few  other  places,  none  of  them  presumed  to  refuse 
their  assent  to  the  authority  of  the  Commonwealth. 

We  did  not  learn  the  names  of  all  these  crumbling  mon- 
uments  of  Irish  feudalism,  for  the  driver  could  not  inform 
us.  He  wondered  why  wre  had  the  curiosity  to  inquire 
about  them.  He  had  rode  past  them,  daily,  for  two  years, 
and  vet  did  not  know  their  names.  We  remember  a  few : 
Castle  Inch,  Carrignamuck,  Carrigadrohid,  castle  Dripsey, 
a  fine  old  ruin,  at  some  distance  on  our  right,  castle  Lynch 
and  Kilcrea  on  the  left,  with  its  priory  not  much  ruined. 
Some  where  on  the  route  are  the  dilapidated  castles  of 
Cloghdha,  Mishanaglass,  Caislean,  and  Castlemore,  formerly 
possessed  by  the  clan  of  McSwiney. 

These  old  ruins  speak  to  us  of  other  times.  They  tell 
of  wrongs  and  injuries,  of  love  and  valor,  of  ignorance  and 
shame,  of  pride  and  oppression,  of  blood  and  carnage  ;  for 
they  were  built  and  inhabited  by  rival  clans,  who  were 
almost  constantly  at  war  with  each  other,  being,  at  that 
time,  elevated  but  a  single  grade  above  the  savage  state. 
But  their  history  and  legends,  like  their  walls  and  names, 
are  fast  sinking  into  forgetfulness,  and  soon  the  dark  pall  of 
oblivion  will  be  spread  completely  over  them.  Few  can 
now  tell  us  their  origin,  not  even  the  time  and  cause  of 
their  abandonment.  The  settlement  of  the  affairs  of  Ire- 
land by  the  interference  of  England,  by  which  the  whole 
country  became  subject  to  its  authority,  and  the  strifes  and 
quarrels  of  clans  referable  to  civil  tribunals  for  adjustment, 
instead  of  an  appeal  to  arms,  had  a  direct  influence  upon 
the  social  condition  of  the  people.  The  spread  of  Christi- 
anity, and  the  authority  of  the  priests  and  bishops,  tended 
to  allay  animosities  and  unite  the  discordant  elements 
in  their  wrild  and  impetuous  characters,  into  a  common 
brotherhood.  And  the  introduction  of  gunpowder  rendered 
these  castles  of  little  value  as  places  of  defence.  They 
were  not  built  to  sustain  an  attack  from  a  well  appointed 
artillery.    Their  strength  and  position  were  planned  with 


CREATION   OF   NEW  LORDS. 


75 


reference  to  the  old  method  of  defence.  They  were  wholly- 
inadequate  to  the  modern  mode  of  warfare. 

The  subjugation  of  the  chiefs  of  the  clans  who  had  dared 
to  attempt  a  defence  against  the  attacks  of  their  enemies, 
afforded  opportunity  for  the  confiscation  of  their  estates, 
which  were  freely  and  liberally  bestowed  upon  another 
race  of  aspirants  for  hereditary  nobility  and  independence, 
who  were  ardent  in  the  service  of  their  country,  so  long  as 
there  was  a  hope  of  getting  gain  by  the  destruction  of  pre- 
tended enemies.  In  this  way  English  lords,  earls  and  mar- 
quises were  installed  into  Irish  possessions  ;  and  Irishmen 
who  proved  their  honor  and  fidelity  by  distinguishing  them- 
selves greatly  in  the  sacrifice  of  the  lives,  liberty,  and  honor 
of  their  own  countrymen,  deserved  so  well,  according  to 
the  code  of  British  political  morality,  that  baronetcies  and 
peerages  were  freely  given  them  in  recompense.  In  this 
way  the  spirit  of  the  nation  was  crushed,  their  lands  and 
castles  passed  out  of  their  hands,  and  they  wrere  hurled 
from  the  positions  they  had  occupied,  into  penury,  disgrace 
and  dependence,  amounting  to  a  virtual  serfdom. 

Here  lies  one  cause  of  Ireland's  present  misery  and 
shame.  It  has  never  risen  from  its  crushed  position.  The 
lion's  paw  is  laid  heavily  upon  it,  and  it  writhes  in  agony. 
But  when  it  shows  the  least  disposition  to  turn  itself,  in  or- 
der to  relieve  its  painful  condition,  the  old  lion  growls  and 
shows  his  teeth,  all  sharp  for  destruction,  and  the  poor  na- 
tion lays  down  quietly  as  it  can,  and  licks  the  foot  of  its 
oppressor,  burying  deeper  its  miseries,  which  gnaw  still  fur- 
ther into  the  very  heart  of  its  existence.  There  are  those 
in  England  who  would  tear  the  whole  carcass  in  pieces  at 
once,  and  destroy  it  for  ever ;  making  the  Emerald  Isle  a 
province,  into  which  they  might  introduce  colonies  of  their 
own  wretched  population.  Such  men  seriously  desire  an 
occasion  to  justify  a  general  onslaught  and  final  extinction 
of  the  Irish  nation,  and  talk  seriously  about  it.  But  heaven 
has  reserved  this  country  for  some  other  end ;  if  not  for 
freedom  and  honor,  to  be,  as  at  present,  the  manufactory 


76 


MAOROQM. 


of  a  race  which  is  spreading  itself,  like  the  old  Teutons, 
among  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  for  some  purpose  which 
shall  be  hereafter  made  manifest. 

The  clouds  broke  away  soon  after  we  left  Cork,  and  the 
sun  shone  sweetly  and  warmly  upon  the  green  undulating 
fields,  brown  old  castles,  low  cabins  and  thatched  cottages, 
giving  life  and  beauty  to  the  fine  scenery  through  which 
we  passed. 

We  reached  Macroom,  the  only  town  of  consequence  on 
the  road,  in  little  over  two  hours — nineteen  miles.  We  en- 
tered it  through  the  romantic  vale  of  Gleancoum.  We 
passed  through  the  principal  street,  which  is  not  over 
twentv-five  feet  wide,  and  has  no  side  walks.  On  either 
side  are  rows  of  low  stone  hovels,  with  thatched  roofs,  not 
over  seven  feet  high,  looking  like  a  coarse  white-washed 
wall  perforated  with  doors  and  windows,  with  a  row  of 
straw  piled  on  top  of  it,  nicely  arranged,  so  as  to  shield  it 
from  the  rain.  The  doors  are  generally  in  two  parts,  the 
upper  half  being  open.  The  windows  are  not  over  two  feet 
square,  and  but  one  in  each  room.  The  floor  is  the  damp 
clay,  and  there  are  no  windows  in  the  chambers.  A  great 
number  of  women  were  sitting  on  benches,  or  on  the  pave- 
ment, sunning  themselves  and  knitting.  They  looked  rag- 
ged and  filthy,  and  their  countenances  indicated  any  thing 
but  good  living  and  contented  spirits. 

MACROOM. 

The  coach  stopped  in  the  square,  near  the  center  of 
the  town,  about  which  are  some  ancient  buildings,  two 
churches,  a  market-house,  a  hotel,  stores,  shops,  and  dwell- 
ings. More  than  a  hundred  men  and  boys,  mostly  in  tat- 
tered garments,  were  standing  about  the  buildings,  a  motly 
group  of  miserable  wretches,  with  haggard  vacant  faces, 
wThich  filled  my  soul  with  pity  as  they  turned  their  sorrow- 
ful imploring  looks  towards  us. 

Having  ten  minutes  to  spare.,  we  strolled  about  the  vil- 


A   LIVING  CASTLE. 


77 


lage.  Several  begged  us  to  give  them  a  penny.  One  told 
us  we  could  go  and  see  the  castle,  and  pointed  us  to  the 
gate,  through  which  we  passed  into  a  beautiful  lawn  in 
front  of  a  large  and  elegant  building,  still  inhabited  by  a 
rich  man,  whose  name  I  have  forgotten.  He  owns  a  large 
tract  of  the  surrounding  country,  has  many  dependants, 
who  have  elected  him  a  member  of  Parliament.  His 
wealth  makes  him  great.  The  castle,  except  the  tower 
and  turrets  on  one  side,  is  no  more  than  a  large  stone  house 
— the  keep  of  the  ancient  Macromp  castle — the  outworks 
having  been  demolished.  It  may  be  eighty,  perhaps  a  hun- 
dred feet  in  front,  and  forty  or  fifty  deep.  It  is  completely 
covered  with  ivy,  closely  matted  on  the  sides  to  the  very 
roof,  and  nicely  cut  away  about  the  windows.  It  is  a  genu- 
ine, living  castle,  shorn  of  its  feudal  and  warlike  aspect,  but 
possessing,  instead,  far  more  aristocratic  proportions  and  ap- 
pearance. The  grounds  about  are  remarkably  beautiful, 
stretching  along  both  banks  of  the  Sullane.  a  small  clear 
stream,  which  washes  its  base.  A  large  plantation  of  fine 
luxuriant  trees  stretches  off  on  one  side,  laid  out  with  wind- 
ing gravel  walks,  with  beds  of  flowers  interspersed.  It  is, 
indeed,  a  spot  of  great  rural  beauty,  made  so  by  the  taste- 
ful application  of  wealth  and  industry. 

In  the  wars  of  the  revolution  this  was  an  important 
strong-hold,  and  guarded  the  principal  pass  from  Kerry  to 
Cork.  It  was  the  scene  of  many  bloody  conflicts.  It  was 
built  by  the  Normans,  and  partook  of  the  style  of  architec- 
ture peculiar  to  that  age  and  nation. 

On  coming  out  from  the  grounds  of  the  demesne,  we 
were  accosted  by  the  sturdy  fellow  who  had  pointed  out 
the  entrance  to  us,  who  wanted  us  to  pay  him. 

"  Pay  you,  for  what  ?  We  gave  the  woman  at  the  gate 
sufficient  for  all  we  have  seen." 

"  I'fath,  an'  wasn't  it  mesilf  that  woos  afther  shooin'  the 
gintilmin  the  way  to  inter  ?  Sure,  an'  yell  not  refoose  me 
a  trifle." 

We  undertook  an  argument,  which  could  have  availed 


78 


UNHAPPINESS   A   CAUSE   OF  MISERY. 


nothing  with  the  hungry  judgments  about  us,  even  if  Mr. 
Red-coat  had  not  called  out  to  start.  We  rushed  to  the 
coach  and  made  our  escape,  but  scattered  a  few  half- 
pennies among  the  multitude,  as  they  turned  their  cadave^ 
rous  faces  imploringly  towards  us,  uttering  many  prayers 
for  God  to  bless  us. 

The  valley  about  the  town  is  rich,  handsome  and  well 
cultivated,  but  all  in  the  hands  of  a  few  men.  The  great 
proportion  of  the  people  subsist  upon  the  miserable  allow- 
ances they  can  purchase  with  the  wages  of  each  day's  la- 
bor. When  they  have  no  work  to  do,  they  have  no 
victuals  to  eat.  Their  wages  are  never  sufficient  to  ena- 
ble them  to  lay  up  any  thing,  and  the  habits  of  their  lives 
are  such  that  they  might  have  no  disposition  to  do  so  if 
they  could.  Some  of  them  have  small  patches  of  ground, 
which  they  hire  at  enormous  prices,  but  from  which  they 
can  produce  little  more  than  enough  to  pay  rent  and  taxes. 
A  more  wretched  and  squalid  population  I  never  saw ;  and 
yet,  the  tokens  of  affluence,  and  the  beauties  and  bounties  of 
Providence  are  all  about  them — but  not  for  them  ;  for  even 
beauty  fades  when  looked  at  with  an  empty  stomach. 

They  are  unhappy,  discontented,  miserable,  and,  no  wonder, 
if  wicked  ;  for  who  does  not  know  that,  a  vast  amount  of  sin 
results  from  unhappiness,  real  or  imaginary,  under  which 
men  find  themselves  suffering  ?  To  relieve  themselves  is 
their  object ;  but  the  right  means  of  doing  it,  those  which 
the  Infinite  wisdom  and  benevolence  has  pointed  out,  are 
not  well  understood  ;  they  are  not  believed ;  and  so  the 
poor,  mistaken  mortal  rushes  forward  in  his  own  way,  and 
too  late  finds  himself  deceived — that  he  has  opened  fresh 
fountains  of  misery  to  overwhelm  his  soul  in  deeper  sor- 
row, and  destroy  what  little  comfort  he  had  left  him ! 

And  how  these  few  rich  men  can  feel  at  ease  in  their  splen- 
did mansions,  while  they  know  that  whole  multitudes  are 
kept  in  misery  by  the  very  means  of  their  wealth  and  lux- 
ury, I  am  not  able  to  understand.  They  absorb  all  the 
moisture  that  freshens  human  life,  and  then  curse  the 


A   WET  CHANCE. 


79 


dearth  they  have  produced  themselves  !  They  make  men 
poor,  and  ignorant,  and  wicked,  and  then  curse  them  for 
being  so !  Macroom  offers  not  the  solitary  proof  of  this 
grievous  iniquity  in  the  social  organism  of  the  world, 
though  the  working  of  it  produces  greater  contrasts  than  I 
have  seen  elsewhere. 

Our  road  now  lay,  after  a  few  miles,  through  a  rough, 
wild,  mountainous  country  much  of  the  way.  We  passed 
along  narrow  denies,  through  boggy  meadows,  and  under 
lofty  mountains,  following  a  small  stream  to  its  very  source 
in  a  large  bog,  from  which  we  descended  into  a  small  val- 
ley running  between  two  ranges  of  jagged,  barren  moun- 
tains, in  which  is  situated  the  little  dirty  town  of  Millstreet. 
We  passed  several  ruined  castles  on  our  way ;  among 
them  Carricr-a-Phouca,  somewhat  in  the  stvle  of  Blarnev, 
though  more  dilapidated,  having  been  built  by  the  McCar- 
ihvs,  in  the  earlv  stvle  of  castle  architecture. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  it  came  on  to  rain  in  tor- 
rents. We  were  wholly  unprotected  from  the  "  pelting  of 
the  pitiless  storm."  An  English  naval  officer,  on  the  seat 
before  us,  was  sheltered  by  a  good  mackintosh  cape,  a  cor- 
ner of  which  I  borrowed  without  his  knowledge,  to  shield 
my  knees.  He  also  had  a  large  blanket  under  him,  which 
he  preferred  to  keep  there,  rather  than  offer  it  to  us.  An- 
other gentleman  of  the  same  nation,  on  the  right,  had  an 
umbrella,  which  he  contrived  to  hold  just  so  as  to  pour  an 
additional  torrent  upon  one  of  our  company,  never  offering 
to  share  it  with  us.  The  poor  fellows  behind,  and  one  for- 
ward, were  as  bad  off  as  ourselves,  except  Mr.  Red-coat, 
who  bundled  himself  up  with  several  cloaks  and  took  it  pa- 
tiently. There  was  not  a  passenger  inside,  and  had  not 
been  all  day.  Six  might  have  been  shielded  from  the  storm, 
perhaps,  from  sickness  and  untimely  death  But  to  enter 
was  not  permitted,  inasmuch  as  we  had  taken  outside  seats, 
and  neither  the  driver  nor  the  guard  had  any  option  in  the 
case — we  suppose  they  had  not.  Humanity  is  the  boast 
of  John  Bull.    This  is  an  illustration  of  it. 


80 


A  SCENE   AT  MILLSTREET. 


MILLSTREET. 

At  Millstreet  we  stopped  a  few  minutes,  and  most  of  the 
passengers  took  a  lunch.  A  loaf  of  bread,  the  shell  of  half 
a  cheese  and  a  huge  piece  of  cold  baked  beef  were  set 
upon  the  table  in  the  dirty  bar-room.  Each  went  and 
cut  for  himself,  filling  mouth,  hands  and  pockets  as  he  chose. 
Those  who  took  meat  paid  a  shilling ;  for  the  bread  and 
cheese,  a  sixpence.  The  Englishmen  had  their  beer,  the 
Irishmen  their  whiskey,  the  Americans  cold  water.  Our 
party  came  out  with  hands  full,  but  the  host  of  wretches 
about  the  coach,  who  seemed  to  need  it  more  than  we,  soon 
begged  it  all  away  from  us,  and  then  besought  us,  "  Plase,  sir, 
a  ha'-penny,  oond  may  God  raward  ye  in  heaven."  A  wo- 
man lifted  up  her  sick  child,  in  which  was  barely  the  breath  of 
life,  muttering,  "  Pray,  yer  honor,  give  me  a  mite  for  my 
poor  childer,  a  single  penny,  oond  may  God  save  yer  shoul." 
Several  deformed  creatures  stationed  themselves  along  the 
street,  and  shouted  after  us  in  the  most  pitiful  tones.  Oth- 
ers ran  beside  the  coach  for  half  a  mile,  yelling  in  the  most 
doleful  manner  for  a  "  ha'-penny,"  promising  us  eternal  life 
if  we  would  but  give  them  one. 

We  observed  that  the  Englishmen  gave  nothing,  but 
looked  at  them  and  spoke  in  the  most  contemptuous  man- 
ner. We  could  not  give  to  all,  but  our  hearts  bled  for 
them.  We  may  become  more  callous  by  a  longer  ac- 
quaintance with  these  scenes  of  destitution  and  misery; 
but  at  present  the  beauty  of  the  Green  Isle  is  greatly 
marred,  and  our  journey,  at  every  advance,  made  painful 
by  the  sight  of  such  an  amount  of  degradation  and  suf- 
fering. 

At  one  place,  we  saw  a  company  of  twenty  or  thirty 
men,  women  and  children,  hovering  about  the  mouth  of  an 
old  lime-kiln,  to  shelter  themselves  from  the  cold  wind  and 
rain.  The  driver  pointed  them  out  as  a  sample  of  what 
was  common  in  these  parts  a  year  ago.    As  we  approached, 


WRETCHEDNESS   AND  STARVATION. 


81 


ascending  a  hill  at  a  slow  pace,  about  half  of  them  came 
from  the  kiln,  which  stood  in  a  pasture  some  rods  from  the 
road.  Such  lean  specimens  of  humanity  I  never  before 
thought  the  world  could  present.  They  were  mere  skele- 
tons, wrapped  up  in  the  coarsest  rags.  Not  one  of  them 
had  on  a  decent  garment.  The  legs  and  arms  of  some  were 
entirely  naked.  Others  had  tattered  rags  dangling  down 
to  their  knees  and  elbows.  And  patches  of  all  sorts  and 
colors  made  up  what  garments  they  had  about  their  bodies. 
They  stretched  out  their  lean  hands,  fastened  upon  arms  of 
skin  and  bone,  turned  their  wan,  ghastly  faces,  and  sunken, 
lifeless  eyes  imploringly  up  to  us,  with  feeble  words  of  en- 
treaty, which  went  to  our  deepest  heart.  The  Englishmen 
made  some  cold  remarks  about  their  indolence  and  worth- 
lessness,  and  s^ave  them  nothing. 

I  never  regretted  more  sincerely  my  own  povertv  than 
in  that  hour.  Such  objects  of  complete  destitution  and 
misery  ;  such  countenances  of  dejection  and  wo,  I  had  not 
believed  could  be  found  on  earth,  Not  a  gleam  of  hope 
springing  from  their  crushed  spirits  ;  the  pangs  of  poverty 
gnawing  at  the  very  fountains  of  their  life.  All  darkness, 
deep,  settled  gloom !  Not  a  ray  of  light  for  them  from  any 
point  of  heaven  or  earth  !  Starvation,  the  most  horrid  of 
deaths,  staring  them  full  in  the  face,  let  them  turn  whither 
they  will.  The  cold  grave  offering  their  only  relief,  and 
that,  perhaps,  to  be  denied  them,  till  picked  up  from  the 
way-side,  many  days  after  death,  by  some  stranger  passing 
that  way,  who  will  feel  compassion  enough  to  cover  up 
their  mouldering  bones  with  a  few  shovels -full  of  earth ! 

And  this  a  christian  country  !  a  part  of  the  great  empire 
of  Great  Britain,  on  whose  domain  the  "  sun  never  sets," 
boastful  of  its  enlightenment,  its  liberty,  its  humanity,  its 
compassion  for  the  poor  slaves  of  our  land,  its  lively  inter- 
est in  whatever  civilizes,  refiness,  and  elevates  mankind ! 
Yet  here  in  this  beautifnl  Island,  formed  by  nature  with 
such  superior  advantages,  more  than  a  score  of  human  be- 


82 


GLORY    WITHOUT  MERIT. 


ings,  shivering  under  the  walls  of  a  lime-kiln,  and  actually 
starving  to  death  ! 

Oh,  England  !  in  thy  rush  for  greatness,  thou  hast  forgot- 
ten to  be  good  !  Bedazzled  with  the  glittering  glory  of  thy 
armies  and  navies,  thou  hast  neglected  the  sources  of  thv 
real  strength !  Giddy  in  admiration  of  the  tinseled  trap- 
pings in  which  thou  hast  bedecked  thy  queen,  and  her  royal 
bantlings  and  nobility,  thou  hast  become  blind  to  the  mise- 
ry which  lies  festering  in  thy  bosom.  Stunned  and  hoarse 
with  the  shoutings  of  thy  own  praise,  thou  art  deaf  to  the 
voice  of  justice,  humanity,  and  religion,  and  sufferest  thv 
own  kinsmen  to  be  wronged,  insulted,  cheated  of  the  very 
sources  of  subsistence,  and  denied  even  the  hope  of  re- 
demption !  What  hast  thou  done — what  art  thou  doing — 
for  thy  millions  of  true  and  loyal  Irish  subjects,  whom  thou 
hast  subdued  to  thy  authority !  which  is  worthy  a  great 
and  christian  nation?  Talk  not  longer  of  thy  humanity, 
of  thy  religion,  of  thy  concern  for  poor  slaves,  thy  keen 
sense  of  justice  and  right,  whilst  so  many  are  wronged, 
and  wretched  at  home  !  The  world  will  not  believe  thee 
sincere  nor  honest,  but  cold  and  heartless  in  thy  preten- 
sions, supremely  selfish  in  the  arrangement  of  thy  public 
and  domestic  affairs,  and  anxious  only  to  obtain  a  great 
name,  without  the  trouble  of  deserving  it ! 

CAUSES     OF  MISERY. 

But  these  Englishmen  tell  us  "  England  has  exhausted 
her  ability  and  patience  in  attempts  to  improve  the  con- 
dition of  Ireland ;  that  she  can  do  no  more  ;  Irishmen  are 
a  miserable  race,  destitute  of  enterprise,  industry,  and  econ- 
omy ;  lazy,  suspicious,  ungrateful ;  hopelessly  lost  in  their 
blind  adherence  to  their  old  ways,  and  the  superstitions  of 
their  religion."  Is  it  so  ?  Can  England  conquer  India, 
humble  China,  rule  the  sea,  and  regulate  the  commerce  of 
the  world,  and  not  be  able  to  devise  and  apply  the  means 
to  improve  the  condition  of  so  small  a  portion  of  her  do- 


REMAIN'S 


83 


minions  as  Ireland ;  to  keep  its  inhabitants  from  beggary 
and  starvation  ?  Then  are  her  statesmen  destitutue  ot  the 
higher  qualities  of  real  greatness — the  knowledge  and  dis- 
position to  do  good — "  to  deal  justly,  love  mercy,  and  walk 
humbly  before  God." 

I  have  not  yet  seen  enough  of  this  country  to  form  a  safe 
opinion  of  the  causes  of  the  misery  and  degradation  we 
meet  at  every  step,  nor  to  suggest  a  remedy  ;  but  so  much 
wretchedness  is  not  without  a  cause,  for  <:  the  curse  cause- 
less shall  not  come.''  It  seems  strange  to  me  that  the  phi- 
losophers, and  statesmen,  and  priests  of  religion,  and  polit- 
ical economists,  and  financiers,  of  which  England  boasts  a 
full  and  honorable  share  should  not  have  found  out  some 
method  to  apply  its  vast  resources  of  practical  knowledge, 
and  active  capital,  and  boasted  philanthropy,  to  prevent  the 
ignorance,  and  crime,  and  suffering,  which  prevail  so  ex- 
tensively in  this  region. 

They  tell  us  "  the  famine,  a  visitation  from  God,  which 
fell  so  severely  upon  this  part  of  the  Island,  last  year,  was 
the  principal  cause  of  the  misery  we  still  see  ;  the  failure 
of  the  potato  crop,  upon  which  many  thousand  depended 
for  their  subsistence,  prevented  those  in  possession  of  little 
properties  from  meeting  their  rents  and  taxes,  and  support- 
ing themselves  S"  Indeed  !  That  begins  to  let  us  into  the 
secret.  The  rents  and  taxes  must  be  paid  to  support  land- 
lords in  ease  and  luxury,  and  the  government  in  its  ability 
to  oppress  this  and  other  nations,  even  though  wives  and 
children  perish  of  starvation  !  In  default  of  payment  the 
balifT  is  directed  to  distrain  and  take  from  the  poor  tenant 
the  last  resource  of  life  and  comfort,  and  then  evict  him, 
and  send  him  out  pennyless  and  ragged,  to  seek  bv  beggary 
a  chance  to  live,  or  a  place  to  die.  The  country,  it  is  said, 
is  overstocked  with  laborers,  and  there  is  no  chance  left  for 
this  new  reinforcement,  and  so  they  are  compelled  to  wan- 
der about  with  the  hosts  of  idlers,  about  whose  indolence 
landlords  and  Englishmen  prate  so  much.  They  can  find 
nothing  to  do.  and  so  they  do  nothing  but  beg  or  steal — 


84 


ELEGANT  DWELLINGS. 


the  former  failing  to  support  life,  we  could  hardly  find  it 
in  our  hearts  to  blame  them  for  the  latter  *  Their  condi- 
tion is  indeed  deplorable.  I  never  understood  the  depth 
of  their  miseries  before.  I  shall  hereafter  feel  more  com- 
passion for  the  poor,  ignorant,  suspicious  Irish,  than  I  have 
ever  felt  for  those  who  seek  an  asylum  in  our  blessed  land. 
Instead  of  blame  and  reproach,  they  deserve  the  sincerest 
pity  for  their  untoward  fate.  They  have  been  reduced  to 
a  state  of  dejection  and  helplessness  from  which  it  is  im- 
possible for  them  to  deliver  themselves. 

But  these  are  only  our  initiatory  lessons,  and  I  will  for- 
bear  any  further  reflections,  till  better  informed  concern- 
ing the  causes  of  their  pitiable  condition. 

After  winding  out  from  the  heather  hills  and  mossy  bogs, 
we  came  in  full  view  of  the  Lakes  of  Killarney,  the  rough, 
jogged  mountains  on  the  south,  and  the  beautiful  plain  be- 
fore us  thickly  studded  with  elegant  mansions,  fine  fields,  and 
copses  of  wood,  spreading  around  to  the  north  and  west, 
with  the  town,  embowered  among  trees,  in  the  center  of 
the  valley.  The  clouds  had  lifted,  and  were  resting  upon 
the  peaks  of  several  mountains,  and,  here  and  there,  patches 
of  sunlight  were  darted  on  different  spots  in  the  landscape. 
It  seemed  to  me  there  could  not  be  found  a  more  beautiful 
place  on  earth.  I  certainly  do  not  recollect  the  sight  of 
one  in  all  my  travels.  Though  dre-nched  to  my  very  skin, 
J  was  in  raptures  at  the  sight  of  such  a  lovely  spot. 

Every  thing  was,  doubtless,  much  enhanced  by  the  cir- 
cumstances under  which  I  viewed  it.  We  had  been  trav- 
eling through  a  most  desolate  region,  destitute,  with  here 

*  In  the  once  thriving  town  of  Newcastle,  in  the  county  of  Limerick,  dur- 
ing the  recent  quarter  sessions,  there  were  over  twelve  hundred  prisoners  to  he 
tried,  and  it  occupied  the  court  but  three  days  to  try  them  all.  And  why? 
Simply  because  they  all  plead  guilty,  in  the  hope  of  being  detained  in  prison  ; 
and  two  who  were  discharged  were  the  next  day  accused  of  riot  in  ;in  attempt 
to  break  into  gaol.  On  his  former  visits  the  assistant-barrister  had  comfort- 
able lodgings  in  the  town  ;  on  the  present  occasion  the  offer  of  a  guinea  a-night 
could  not  procure  him  a  bed,  even  in  a  cabin.  All  had  fled  from  a  rate  ex- 
ceeding 20s.  in  the  pound. ---Limerick  Paper. 


HOTEL  RUNNERS. 


85 


and  there  a  pitiful  exception,  of  cultivation  and  inhabitants, 
and  in  a  merciless  storm,  without  any  protection.  We 
were  wet,  and  cold,  and  hungry.  The  prospect  of  a  com- 
fortable hotel,  a  cheerful  fire,  a  change  of  clothing,  and  a 
decent  dinner,  awakened  feelings  and  hopes  which  qualified 
us  to  enjoy  the  sudden  surprise  of  such  a  moment.  Be- 
sides, we  had  not  expected  to  find  such  wild  and  romantic 
scenery  in  this  country — such  grand  and  lofty  mountains, 
such  sweet  and  silvery  lakes,  such  taste  and  splendor 
in  rural  dwellings.  Green  fields,  wretched  hovels,  and 
degraded  people  wre  had  been  accustomed  to  associate 
with  the  Emerald  Isle,  but  not  tall  mountains,  bend- 
ing forests,  beautiful  villas,  and  rural  magnificence ;  es- 
pecially not  in  the  west  of  Ireland.  But  here  the  eve 
rests,  at  a  single  glance,  upon  every  variety  of  scene- 
ry— on  mountain,  lake,  and  vale  ;  on  forest,  glen,  and 
meadow  ;  on  pasture,  heath,  and  garden  ;  on  country,  town, 
and  villa  ;  on  castle,  church,  and  cottage  ;  on  splendor, 
pride,  and  ruin ;  on  riches,  want,  and  crime  ;  on  coaches, 
carts,  and  rags ;  on  virtue,  sin,  and  sorrow ;  on  honor,  wit, 
and  shame  ;  on  every  thing,  which  appears  to  be  congre- 
gated here  in  distinct  and  forcible  contrast. 

On  winding  into  the  town  between  rows  of  statelv  trees, 
which  bordered  the  road  on  either  side,  and  passing  several 
elegant  mansions,  we  came  directly  to  the  "King's  Arms" 
hotel,  before  which  a  crowd  of  beggarly  looking  men  and 
boys  were  collected,  each  crowding  about  the  coach,  anx- 
ious for  a  chance  to  serve  us — or  themselves  by  us.  On 
dismounting  as  best  we  could,  with  our  wet,  stiff  limbs,  be- 
numbed with  the  cold,  we  fought  our  way  through  the 
motley  group,  in  order  to  relieve  ourselves,  if  possible,  from 
their  importunities.  Some  cried,  "  go  to  the  Victoria 
others  cried,  "  Stay  here,  this  is  a  good  place."  But  we 
had  resolved  to  go  to  ':  Muckruss  Hotel,"  at  Cloghereen,  a 
mile  or  two  out  of  the  town,  and  near  the  Lakes.  Every 
traveler  should  know  where  to  stop  before  entering  a  strange 
town  ;  otherwise  he  may  be  sadly  imposed  upon ;  for  the 

S 


86 


VIEW   OF  KILLARNEY. 


meanest  taverns  often  have  the  most  attractive  names  ;  and 
there  are  not  wanting  runners  to  swear  to  any  thing,  enough 
to  deceive,  if  it  were  possible,  those  who  had  already  elected 
places  of  abidance. 

We  had  intended  to  walk,  in  order  to  keep  ourselves 
from  taking  cold,  but  finding  a  car  in  waiting,  as  it  had 
come  on  to  rain  again,  we  accepted  the  invitation  of  the 
proprietor  of  the  hotel,  and  rode.  One  of  our  party,  less 
fortunate,  had  succeeded  in  getting  out  of  the  crowd,  when 
he  was  surrounded  by  a  lot  of  ragged  boys,  who  fairly  got 
hold  of  his  valise  and  attempted  to  get  it  away  from  him, 
in  order  to  earn  two-pence  by  carrying  it  a  mile  or  two. 
He  had  quite  a  wrangle  with  them,  and  spoke  some  sharp 
words  in  the  free  speech  of  our  own  country,  which  con- 
siderably alarmed  our  landlord,  for  he  said  they  were  a  set 
of  desperate  fellows,  who  might  severely  injure  him  if  he 
should  excite  their  anger.  We  entreated  him  to  desist,  but 
he  was  manfully  resolved  to  push  his  way  through,  and  so 
we  passed  on  without  him. 

On  the  way  we  passed  some  truly  splendid  estates.  The 
road  is  shaded  by  lofty  trees,  whose  branches  met  in  arches 
over  us.  His;h  walls  of  cemented  stones  enclosed  the  rich 
fields,  and  handsome  palings  are  about  the  large  and  elegant 
mansions,  which  stand  some  rods  from  the  road,  in  the 
midst  of  delicious  shade  trees,  and  surrounded  by  beautiful 
lawns,  bounded  by  graveled  walks,  beds  of  flowers,  or  haw- 
thorn hedges,  winding  fantastically  through  the  groves  in  all 
directions. 

The  sumptuousness  of  these  dwellings  contrasted  fearfully 
with  the  ragged  specimens  of  poverty  and  misery  we  had 
just  seen,  in  the  town.  There  was  such  a  scene  of  human 
wretchedness  as  was  never  looked  on  in  our  country,  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  on  the  first  arrival  of  a  load  of  Irish  emi- 
grants, while  here  are  such  proofs  of  aristocratic  taste  and 
ability,  as  American  eyes  have  not  been  wont  to  look  upon, 
not  even  along  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  or  Delaware,  or 
our  krge  cities.    The  extremes  meet  here,  and  present  a 


CLOGHEREEX. 


87 


sad  commentary  upon  the  institutions  of  this  wronged  and 
unhappy  country. 

CLOGHEREEN. 

A  good  turf  fire,  built  in  a  grate  like  those  used  for  coal 
in  our  country,  a  change  of  dothing,  and  some  plain  re- 
freshments, genteelly  served,  restored  our  drooping  spirits, 
and  made  us  feel  quite  at  home  at  Roche's  Hotel. 

In  an  hour,  the  rain  having;  subsided,  we  were  readv  to 
begin  our  excursions.  The  servant,  who  was  quite  intelli- 
gent, finding  that  we  were  from  x\merica,  became  devoted 
in  his  attentions  to  us,  making  a  thousand  inquiries  about 
the  chances  of  getting  a  living,  the  best  places  and  best 
business  to  make  a  support  for  himself  and  family.  He 
told  us  of  his  friends  who  had  emigrated,  his  plans  to  raise 
funds  to  pay  his  own  passage  ;  the  extent  of  misery  and 
starvation  which  had  prevailed,  and  of  which  he  had  been 
a  witness  the  year  before.  He  made  our  hearts  bleed  by 
his  recital.  He  described  scenes  of  smTerinor  and  death  too 
horrid  to  be  believed,  and  which  we  could  not  credit  but 
for  the  testimony  of  other  witnesses.  It  was  in  this  region, 
and  to  the  south,  about  Skibbereen,  and  to  the  north  in  Gal- 
way  county,  that  the  famine  prevailed  most  severely. 

He  said  he  had  visited  houses  where  two  or  three  lay 
dead,  and  several  others  were  in  the  last  stages  of  starva- 
tion. Many  were  found  dead  in  the  highways  and  in  the 
fields.  He  mentioned  one  case,  of  a  body  wThich  lay  un- 
buried  by  the  road-side,  till  a  notice  of  it  had  been  sent  to 
America  and  returned  in  the  newspapers.  Some  times 
bodies  lay  for  weeks  unburied.  It  was  a  fearful  time. 
Thousands  more  would  have  died,  he  assured  us,  but  for 
the  timely  arrival  of  food  sent  out  from  our  country.  He 
spoke  with  the  deepest  feeling  of  gratitude  of  the  generous 
conduct  of  our  countrymen,  which  afforded  them  so  much 
relief  in  the  time  of  their  terrible  sufferings,  and  of  the  im- 
mense debt  due  from  their  country  to  ours,  which  God  onlv 

mi  *  mS 


88 


NATIONS  IIO\OR. 


could  repay  us.  ■  He  spoke  of  the  effect  our  benefactions 
had  produced  upon  all  classes,  which  was  so  great  that  even 
those  who  had  derided  us,  and  sneered  at  our  institutions  and 
habits,  had  changed  their  manners,  and  now  commended  us 
in  the  highest  terms. 

Mr.  Roche,  the  gentlemanly  proprietor  of  the  house, 
confirmed,  in  still  stronger  terms,  all  his  servant  had  told 
us  ;  and  we  lacked  no  evidence,  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest,  from  the  rich  and  noble  to  the  humblest  laborers  and 
poorest  beggars,  to  establish  our  conviction  that  our  charity 
had  not  been  thrown  away,  but  that  our  bread  which  had 
been  cast  over  the  waters  would  return  after  not  many 
days.  How  much  more  glorious  is  a  victory  thus  gained 
over  the  prejudices  and  hatred  of  an  arrogant  and  hostile 
nation,  than  one  won  by  the  sword  in  battle !  What 
grander  sight  could  we  exhibit  to  the  view  of  nations,  than 
to  return  the  Macedonian,  a  ship-of-war  taken  from  England 
in  a  fight  unjustly  waged,  to  impress  our  seamen  and  crip- 
ple our  young  commerce,  laden  with  the  charities  of  our 
free  and  bountiful  soil,  to  feed  her  starving  millions,  of  whose 
welfare  she  has  been  so  sadly  neglectful  ? 

Let  others  carp  about  the  indignity  to  Britain's  sense  of 
honor ;  of  the  offence  to  her  national  pride.  No  matter ! 
It  is  an  offence  which  outfit  to  come — a  rebuke  which  she 
should  receive — one  she  needed,  to  teach  her  the  lessons  of 
justice  and  religion,  and  make  her  see  the  necessity  of  lend- 
ing; her  energies  and  vast  resources  to  some  better  service 
than  conquest  and  oppression.  Kindness  kills.  It  has 
been  so  in  this  case.  The  reward  of  our  goodness  is  not 
only  felt  at  home,  in  the  sweet  consciousness  of  having 
done  a  noble  and  generous  act,  discharged  a  Christian 
dutv,  but  every  traveler  receives  it  in  the  encomiums  be- 
stowed  upon  his  country,  and  in  the  attentions  shown  him 
by  those  who  have  hearts  to  feel  the  force  of  such  a  prac- 
tical illustration  of  disinterested  benevolence.  We  have 
already  received  many  attentions  on  account  of  our  na- 
tionality  and  not  a  few  on  the  score  of  our  supposed 


SIR   RICHARD  COURTENAY. 


89 


wealth.  Every  body  seems  to  think  that  Americans  are 
all  rich,  that  none  are  poor ;  and,  therefore,  we  are  beset 
the  more  resolutely  by  the  wretched  beings  whom  we 
meet. 

I  have  been  astonished  to  see  with  what  facility  our 
English  companions  keep  clear  of  them.  I  can  not  tell 
why  it  is,  that  we  should  be  so  constantly  importuned  by 
beggars,  while  none  come  near  them.  They  are  better 
dressed  than  we,  and  make  a  greater  display.  Yet,  while 
scores  of  ragged,  half-naked,  starved  creatures,  with  sunken 
eyes  and  cadaverous  faces,  are  hanging  about  us,  they  es- 
cape unmolested,  and  seem  to  be  totally  indifferent  to  these 
pictures  of  human  misery.  I  almost  envy  them  their 
equanimity  under  such  circumstances.  I  do  believe  the 
leanness  of  our  pockets  will  compel  us  to  disown  our  coun- 
try, and  play  the  Englishman — a  downfall  to  which  we 
never  thought  to  be  reduced.  I  mean  in  that  particular 
hauteur  of  manner  which  forbids  the  approach  of  the  poor 
and  needy. 

Being  ready  to  commence  our  rambles,  the  servant  in- 
troduced to  us  Sir  Richard  Courtenay,  the  famous  guide  to 
all  the  interesting  localities  about  the  lakes  and  mountains 
of  Kiiiarney.  We  received  him  with  all  due  formality,  as 
it  had  been  intimated  to  us  that  to  humor  his  vanity,  and 
speak  of  his  noble  ancestry,  would  render  him  peculiarly 
useful  and  interesting.  He  immediately  informed  us  that 
he  was  descended,  through  Lords  Courtenay  and  Earls  of 
Desmond,  from  a  noble  stock,  which  was  a  branch  of  the 
Royal  family  of  France,  and  in  some  way  connected,  by 
his  maternal  pedigree,  with  the  house  of  Constinople!  His 
more  immediate  ancestors  were  knighted,  by  some  of  the 
English  kings,  and  held,  for  a  long  period,  a  distinguished 
baronetcy  in  this  part  of  the  realm  ;  but  by  revolutions, 
civil  wars,  and  other  misfortunes,  the  property  had  been 
lost  and  only  the  title,  only  the  poorest  part,  was  left  for 
him.  He  could  talk  Celtic,  recite  Latin,  and  quote  poetry. 
He  possessed  a  fair  share  of  Irish  wit  and  humor,  but 

8* 


90 


A  SALES-WOMAN. 


showed  a  vein  of  sadness  in  all  he  said  and  did.  He  was 
full  of  anecdote,  could  locate  every  legend,  and  answer, 
without  hesitation,  every  question  asked  him.  All  showed 
him  the  utmost  respect,  and  invariaby  addressed  him  as  Sir 
Richard. 

He  is  a  small,  lean,  dapper  man,  dressed  in  corduroy 
breeches,  an  old-fashioned,  long,  blue  coat,  with  metal  but- 
tons, a  grayish  vest,  and  wide  straight  collar.  His  slouched 
hat  and  heavy  nailed  shoes  completed  his  outward  embel- 
lishments, all  of  which  must  have  looked  better  two  years 
ago  than  at  present.  He  might  be  fifty,  perhaps  sixty ;  for 
time  and  circumstance  had  done  for  him  considerable  work, 
leaving  traces  behind.  Still  he  retained  a  full  quantum  of 
vivacity  ;  except  he  had  a  bad  phthisic,  which  retarded  his 
movements  somewhat  in  ascending  steep  places,  and 
troubled  him  in  damp  weather.  Such  was  the  Knight  we 
took  for  our  cicerone  to  the  romantic  scenery  of  Killarney. 

We  found  at  the  door  a  "  lady-in-waiting,"  with  a  large 
box  of  curious  trinkets,  useful  and  ornamental,  manufac- 
tured from  Arbutus  wood.  She  had  followed  us  from  the 
town,  in  much  haste,  in  order  to  pre-engage  our  custom, 
before  we  had  committed  ourselves  to  rival  establishments, 
but,  from  respect  to  our  position,  had  not  dared  enter  the 
house,  or  even  ask  for  us.  She  had  work-boxes,  needle- 
books,  nut-crackers,  folding-knives,  and  a  host  of  nice  arti- 
cles "  too  numerous  to  mention,"  all  of  which  displayed  the 
peculiar  beauties  of  the  wood  and  exquisite  workman- 
ship. We  had  not  looked  for  such  delicate  skill  in  a  popu- 
lation generally  so  ignorant  and  degraded.  Much  of  the 
work  was  really  very  fine,  and  she  assured  us  her  husband 
had  larger  and  more  elegant  pieces  at  his  store.  Her  man- 
ner was  exceedingly  modest.  She  looked  neat,  and  ap- 
peared intelligent.  We  accepted  her  card,  and  promised 
to  call  when  we  went  to  the  village,  and  look  at  her  wares 
in  prefererce  to  any  others  that  might  be  offered .  She  ap- 
peared well  pleased  with  her  success,  and  departed. 

Our  first  excursion  was  to  the  Turk  waterfall,  a  mile  or 


UNEXPECTED  COMPANY. 


91 


more  distant,  not  far  from  the  Kenmare  road.  Xot  many 
rods  from  the  hotel.,  three  women  joined  us,  and  kept  close 
by  all  the  way.  They  were  dressed  in  very  plain  clothing, 
with  coarse  kerchiefs  over  their  heads,  and  nothing  on  their 
feet.  Two  of  them  were  of  very  decent  appearance — 
young,  fair,  and  well  proportioned ;  but  the  third  was 
larger,  older,  and  uglier.  Her  features  were  exceedingly 
unbeautiful.  We  at  first  supposed  they  came  to  beg  ;  but 
they  asked  for  nothing,  and  yet  followed  us.  We  asked 
Sir  Richard  the  reason  of  this  unexpected  acquisition  to 
our  party.  His  only  reply  was  that  they  had  come  to  ac- 
company us  and  give  us  refreshment.  He  chatted  freely 
with  them,  but  in  a  dialect  we  could  not  understand.  We 
were  greatly  perplexed,  and  not  a  little  annoyed  by  their 
presence ;  not  knowing  what  all  this  might  mean. 

After  passing  a  few  poor,  and  one  or  two  decent  houses, 
we  came  to  some  rich  grounds  on  our  right,  between  the 
road  and  the  lake,  laid  out  into  beautiful  shady  walks, 
amidst  a  thrifty  plantation,  or  occupied  for  a  kitchen  gar- 
den, belonging  to  the  demesne  of  Mr.  Herbert,  whose  ele- 
gant mansion  stands  upon  the  shore  of  the  lake.  Roads 
which  enter  through  handsome  gateways,  a  mile  apart,  on  the 
main  road,  guarded  by  porter's  lodges,  lead  by  the  mansion. 
On  the  left  of  the  road  is  an  open  wild  wood,  of  young, 
slim  firs,  which  extends  far  up  the  side  of  Turk  mountain. 
For  several  rods  there  is  a  low  wall  on  the  wood  side,  with 
a  gate  near  the  little  rivulet,  which  is  kept  locked.  On 
reaching  the  gate  we  were  bidden  to  wait  till  the  little  girl, 
who  had  been  trotting  ahead  of  us,  should  return  from  the 
porter's  lodge,  to  which  she  had  gone  to  gain  for  us  permis- 
sion to  visit  the  Falls.  Soon  she  returned,  accompanied  by 
a  fat  woman,  who  said  something  to  Sir  Richard  in  Celtic, 
and  then  unlocked  the  gate.  She  spoke  sharply  to  the  wo- 
men who  came  along  with  us,  and  they  remained  behind. 

A  few  rods  from  the  road  we  were  shown  a  Cedar  of 
Lebanon,  a  small  tree,  not  over  ten  inches  in  diameter  and 
thirtv  feet  in  height.    Sir  Richard  said  it  was  descended 


92 


TURK  WATERFALL. 


from  seeds  brought  by  the  crusaders  and  was  revered  as  a 
rare  and  curious  specimen  of  the  godly  zeal  and  noble  hero- 
ism of  the  most  royal  knights  who  served  in  those  holy 
wTars.  It  is  enclosed  by  a  rail  fence  to  protect  it  from  sac- 
rilegious touch,  and  the  beaten  ground  about  it  shows  that 
our  worthy  guide  had  some  foundation  for  what  he  said. 

A  little  way  further  we  came  to  the  foot  of  a  very  pretty 
cascade.  A  small  rivulet,  much  swollen  by  the  late  rains, 
issues  from  a  deep  ravine  overhung  by  bending  firs,  and 
plunges  down  a  rough  ledge  of  precipitous  rocks,  seventy  or 
eighty  feet,  in  foaming  fury.  Every  thing  about  it  is  wild 
and  romantic,  and,  to  one  unfamiliar  with  such  scenery,  it 
presents  an  object  of  novelty  and  admiration.  For  us  it 
had  few  attractions.  The  glens  of  our  mountain  forests 
contain  innumerable  cascades  of  superior  grandeur  and 
beauty. 

By  a  winding  path  we  ascended  to  the  summit  of  a  little 
rounded  hill  which  overlooks  the  falls.  A  small  patch  has 
been  cleared  of  bushes  and  furnished  with  rude  benches  for 
the  accommodation  of  visitors.  From  this  spot  we  enjoyed 
a  view  of  one  of  the  finest  landscapes  we  ever  beheld.  I 
doubt  if  many  more  beautiful  can  be  found  in  the  world. 
Almost  every  variety  of  scenery  is  beheld  at  a  single  glance. 
On  the  south  stretches  a  lon^  range  of  mountains,  crowned 
with  lofty  peaks,  and  broken  into  various  shapes  by  nar- 
row gaps  and  deep  glens  which  furrow  their  dark  and 
heathy  sides.  On  the  left  is  Mangerton,  whose  gentle  ac- 
clivity and  boggy  summit,  covered  with  brown  heather  and 
disconnected  rocks,  contrasts  finely  with  the  wooded  cone 
of  Turk  from  which  it  is  separated  by  a  narrow  valley 
through  which  winds  the  old  road  to  Kenmare,  and  down 
which  rushes,  impetuously,  the  little  rivulet  which  has  its 
origin  in  the  Devil's  Punch  Bowl — called  the  Styx,  and  forms 
at  our  feet  the  Turk  wTaterfall. 

Then  the  low  glen  up  which  runs  the  present  road  to 
Kenmare  and  GlengarirT,  and  down  which  flows  the  waters 
of  the  Upper  Lake.    Next,  the  Purple  mountain,  or  Long 


FICTURESaUE  SCENERY. 


93 


Range,  whose  northern  base,  densely  wooded,  rises  gloomily 
up  from  the  very  waters  of  the  Lakes,  its  sides  covered  with 
shrubs  thickly  matted  and  whose  summit  is  crowned  with  the 
naked  peaks  of  the  Glena  and  Toomies.  Beyond  are  seen 
McGillicuddy's  Reeks,  which  stand  as  so  many  attendants, 
forming  a  bodyguard  around  his  imperial  Highness,  Carran 
Tual,  the  tallest  of  Irish  mountains.  A  little  to  the  right 
stretch  along  the  undulating  Brandon  and  Tralee  moun- 
tains  which  fade  away  in  the  distance  towards  the  ocean. 

From  the  west  to  the  north-east  is  spread  out  a  most 
beautiful  tract  which  gently  ascends,  forming  a  magnifi- 
cent amphitheater  checkered  by  a  thousand  little  fields  of 
varying  hues  and  dotted  all  over  with  humble  dwellings  and 
elegant  villas,  shaded  with  lofty  trees,  and  adorned  with 
delightful  flower  gardens.    In  the  bottom  of  this  basin  are 

o  o 

the  silvery  Lakes  of  Killarney,  gemmed  with  innumerable 
islets,  on  whose  placid  bosom,  are  mirrored  the  shadows  of 
the  adjacent  mountains,  and  woody  shores 

From  the  midst  of  a  thick  foliage  on  one  of  the  islands, 
towers  up  in  gruff  and  solemn  dignity  like  an  old  man  among 
his  grand-children,  the  ivyed  walls  and  gray  battlements  of 
Ross  Castle.  Just  beyond  are  the  crumbling  walls  of  an 
old  monastery,  on  Innisfallen  ;  nearer  by,  on  the  main  land, 
embowered  among  trees  is  the  venerable  ruin  of  Muckrus 
Abbey,  the  finest  in  the  kingdom.  To  the  right,  above  the 
lakes  is  seen  the  village  of  Killarney,  which,  at  this  distance, 
has  a  beautiful  and  picturesque  appearance ;  its  lofty  spire, 
lone  tower,  and  shady  suburbs  add  greatly  to  the  complete- 
ness of  the  picture. 

The  grandeur  of  this  most  charming  scenery  was  greatly 
enhanced,  at  the  moment  we  first  looked  upon  it,  by  the 
brilliant  reflection  of  the  sweet  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 
The  day  had  been  rainy,  and  dark  clouds  still  hung  about 
like  the  curtains  of  approaching  night.  Along  the  west  the 
dark  veil  had  been  brushed  away,  for  the  sun  to  take  a  fare- 
well look  of  this  beautiful  world,  before  going  to  his  rest  on 
the  bosom  of  the  broad  Atlantic,    Soon  his  glaring  face 


94 


A   BEAUTIFUL  SUN-SET. 


was  screened  from  our  view  by  the  Brandon  hills,  behind 
which  he  hasted  to  go  down  ;  but  left  his  brightest  beams  to 
fringe  the  borders  of  the  cloudy  panoply  in  gorgeous  scarlet, 
which  now  hung  about  the  heavens  like  the  draping  of  day. 
In  a  moment  more  the  whole  seemed  changed,  and  what 
was  so  brilliant  began  to  take  on  a  sombre  hue,  as  despair 
returns  when  newly-awakened  hopes  are  fled. 

We  had  gazed  in  the  profoundest  admiration  upon  the 
singular  variety  and  grandeur  of  this  magnificent  landscape, 
till  Sir  Richard  had  sufficiently  regained  his  pulmonary 
powers  to  enable  him  to  exhibit  his  intimate  knowledge  of 
all  the  legends  and  localities  of  this  romantic  region.  As 
soon  as  his  asthma  had  subsided,  he  commenced,  in  his 
peculiar  and  attractive  style,  his  peroration  to  a  very 
minute  description  of  nearly  every  object  within  the  range 
of  our  vision  ;  naming  every  mountain,  hill,  and  glen  ;  every 
streamlet,  copse  and  island,  every  castle,  cave  and  cottage ; 
every  villa,  church  and  mansion,  forgetting  in  no  case  to 
couple  with  everything  described,  all  the  stories  and  legends, 
ancient  and  modern,  real  or  traditionary,  probable  or  ficti- 
tious. No  poet  ever  recited  the  dreams  of  his  imagination 
with  a  truer  zest ;  no  orator  ever  burned  with  more  impas- 
sioned eloquence,  than  Sir  Richard  on  that  occasion  ;  and 
few  were  ever  listened  to  with  profounder  attention.  He  omit- 
ted nothing,  not  even  himself,  and  the  part  he  had  borne  in 
many  wonderful  and  ludicrous  incidents  and  accidents  which 
had  occurred  in  all  that  region  for  the  last  thirty  years  to 
the  thousands  who  had  come  here  from  all  parts  of  the 
world  to  spend  a  few  days  or  weeks,  in  revelling  amid 
the  beauties  and  pleasures  of  this  wild  and  attractive 
scenery. 

The  enchantment  of  that  hour  I  can  never  forget.  An 
impression  was  made  which  no  time  can  erase  from  my 
memory.  It  was  one  of  those  lonely  spots  which  always 
enchant  us,  and  which  we  gaze  upon  with  peculiar  delight. 
And  I  thought  of  home,  and  friends  far  over  the  sea — scenes 


MOUNTAIN  DEW. 


05 


more  dear  than  this,  and  my  prayer  went  up  to  Heaven  for 
the  beauties  of  peace  to  be  upon  them  all. 

As  the  gray  twilight  began  to  steal  over  the  earth,  we 
descended.  On  approaching  the  road  we  took  a  path  which 
leads  directly  from  the  falls  to  the  road,  without  passing 
through  the  gate  of  the  wall  by  which  we  had  entered. 
Sir  Richard  called  us  back,  that  we  might  not  forget  the 
porteress  who  had  opened  the  gate — of  which  there  was  no 
necessity,  for  we  could  have  gone  to  the  falls  without  en- 
countering any  obstacle  and  saved  considerable  in  the  dis- 
tance. But  these  people  are  poor,  and  any  stratagem  to 
get  a  few  pennies  to  keep  themselves  from  starvation  is  not 
exactly  extortion.  All  helps  them  to  employment.  The 
building  of  a  wall  ten  rods  long,  disconnected  at  both  ends, 
with  a  gate  in  the  centre,  with  an  object  of  curiosity  be- 
yond, is  no  worse  than  some  other  speculations  greater  men 
have  entered  into.  It  makes  business  for  the  old  woman, 
and  the  little  girl  who  goes  for  her,  and  Sir  Richard  and  the 
landlord,  who,  as  they  ought,  have  fellow-feeling  for  their 
countrymen.  It  is  lawful  to  adopt  a  protective  system  for 
self,  even  though  it  be  at  others  expense.  Such  is  the  theory 
of  governments  ;  why  not  of  individuals  ? 

The  moment  we  had  discharged  the  old  woman,  who 
showed  little  gratitude  for  our  donation,  we  were  beset 
by  the  girls  who  had  accompanied  us,  to  "  dhrink  soome 
goat's  malk  and  moounthain  dew  which  coome  froom  the 
back  of  Mangerton,"  offering  us  a  common  earthern  tea- 
cup, and  holding  out  a  wooden  mug.  I  took  a  cup  from 
one.  when  the  others  started  for  my  friends,  each  selecting 
her  man. 

"  What  may  this  mountain  dew  be  ?"  asked  I. 

"  Faix,  sir,  an'  ye  moost  be  dhry  afther  so  lang  a  walk  ; 
an'  we  thooght  we'd  bes  afther  fetchin'  the  gintilmin  soome 
moounthain  dew,  and  goat's  milk." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  but  what  is  it  ?    What  is  it  good  for  ?" 

"  Sure,  an'  'twill  rist  ye,  an'  ye'll  fale  all  the  bether  foor 
it  an'  kape  ye  froom  takin"  coold.  it  will." 


96 


A  SURPRISE. 


Upon  this  she  poured  some  milk  into  the  cup,  and  then 
unstopped  a  small,  square  glass  bottle,  from  which  she  was 
about  to  pour  something.    I  asked, 

"  What  is  that — poison  ?" 

"  Not  the  divil  a  bit  of  it.  It's  the  pure  moounthain  dew 
froom  behind  Manger  ton  ;  an'  ye'll  not  remimber  a  bit  o' 
what  ye've  seen,  without  ye  dhrink  it." 

"  Well,  then,  pour  in  a  little,  for  I  would  not.  forget  the 
views  of  the  past  hour  for  a  fortune.  I  may  never  1  look 
on  the  like  again.'  " 

"  Sure,  an'  ye're  a  nice  gintilmin." 

She  poured  some  from  her  flask  into  the  milk,  and  I 
tasted  it. 

"  Oh,  you  blessed  woman  !  what  have  you  done  ?  You 
have  given  me  whiskev.  What  shall  I  do  ?  What  will 
Father  Mathew,  whose  pledge  I  signed  last  night,  say  to 
me  ?    He  will  never  pardon  me  this  sin  as  long  as  I  live." 

"  Nivir  a  bit  will  ye  be  the  woorse  foor  it,  an'  God  hilp 
ye,  sir.  Ye's  no  nade  to  faare  he'll  ivir  find  it  oout,  at  all, 
at  all." 

"  But  what  if  I  should  confess  to  him  that  I  had  broken 
the  pledge  ?" 

"Oh,  the  divil — git  soome  oother  confissor,  who  doont 
care  if  a  gintilmin  dhrinks  a  bit  o'potcheen,  noo  and  thin." 

"  That  will  never  do.  And  besides,  you  have  deceived 
me.  You  told  me  it  was  mountain  dew,  when  it  is  whis- 
key." 

She  seemed  a  little  frightened  by  the  manner  in  which  I 
said  this,  colored  considerably,  and  looked  down.  At  length 
she  replied  in  a  different  tone,  as  if  fearful  she  had  offended 
me. 

Oh,  sir,  it's  made  joost  back  o'  Mangerton,  an'  we  call  it 
the  moounthain  dew." 

"  But  I  fear  you  have  dipped  it  from  the  Devil's  Punch 
Bowl,  which  Sir  Richard  says  lies  upon  Mangerton,  where 
the  O'Donoghue  used  to  hold  conferences  with  his  dark 
majesty,  and  pledge  himself  to  his  service  with  a  glass  of 


SENTIMENT. 


97 


punch.  If  I  had  taken  much  of  it,  I  am  sure  it  would  play 
the  devil  with  me,  as  it  has  with  thousands  of  others." 

"  Nivir  a  bit  o'  harm  will  it  be  afther  doin'  ye.  'Twill 
kape  ye  waarm,  an'  do  ye  good,  an'  make  ye  kape  in 
mimory  all  ye  huv  sane,  it  will." 

Taking  warning  by  my  discovery  one  of  our  party  re- 
fused to  taste  either  the  goat's  milk  or  mountain  dew, 
though  most  earnestly  beset  to  do  so.  They  thought  him  a 
strange  mortal,  and  entered  a  very  solemn  protest  against 
the  mistake  and  folly  of  Father  Mathew  and  the  temper- 
ance cause.  It  seemed  to  them,  doubtless,  as  it  has  to  a 
thousand  others,  that  it  is  a  meddlesome  interference  with 
their  vocation  to  dissuade  people  from  buying  their  need- 
less and  pernicious  stuff,  from  the  sale  of  which  they  make 
an  honest  living ! 

Neither  of  these  young  women  could  read  or  write,  and 
one  of  them  could  not  speak  the  English  language.  Their 
conversation  was  carried  on  in  Celtic.  On  our  way  back, 
they  sang  us  several  songs  in  their  native  dialect,  which 
Sir  Richard  interpreted  for  our  better  understanding.  The 
airs  were  very  fine,  and,  heard  in  the  stillness  of  the  forest 
glen,  at  the  twilight  hour,  and  under  circumstances  to  us 
so  novel  and  romantic,  produced  in  us  peculiar  and  inde- 
scribable emotions.  The  sentiment  of  their  songs  was  less 
edifying,  but  served  to  give  us  some  knowledge  of  their 
habits  of  thought  and  manner  of  life.  Thev  were  love 
ditties,  or  romantic  tales  of  pledged  affections,  broken  vows, 
pining  love,  or  speedy  retribution.  The  character  of  their 
heroes  was  always  that  of  courage  in  fight,  or  on  the  sea. 
and  the  highest  achievement  the  possession  of  wealth  and 
successful  love.  Faithlessness  to  plighted  love  was  marked 
with  the  severest  retributions,  while  painful  constancy  was 
most  highly  praised. 

There  was  a  meekness  and  simplicity  in  their  manners, 
and  such  apparent  sincerity  and  truthfulness  in  all  they 
said,  that  we  became  very  much  interested  in  them.  They 
made  many  inquiries  about  our  country,  and  expressed  the 

9 


98 


A    NEW  COMER. 


strongest  desire  to  find  an  opportunity  to  remove  to  it. 
The  only  obstacle  was  the  want  of  means.  They  were 
ready  to  leave  their  parents,  and  friends,  and  country,  at 
any  moment,  if  they  could  but  go  to  "  Amiriky."  They 
offered  to  work  for  us  a  whole  year  if  we  would  pay  their 
fare  ;  and  would  start  off  alone,  or  go  with  us  when  we 
should  return.  Before  leaving  us  we  save  them  a  shilling 
a-piece,  with  which  they  seemed  much  pleased,  and  were 
very  inquisitive  to  know  the  plan  of  our  visits.  They  said 
if  we  went  to  the  Gap  of  Dunloe  and  the  Reeks,  they 
would  meet  us  there.  Thev  lived,  we  learned,  near  the 
town,  and  had  come  four  miles  for  the  chance  of  serving 
us  with  a  little  milk  and  whiskev,  and  now  offered  to  go 
eight  or  ten  miles  to  serve  us  again. 

On  returning  we  found  our  lady  of  the  Arbutus  work 
still  in  waiting,  and  another,  younger,  handsomer,  and  more 
talkative,  along  with  her.  We  learned  that  she  had  re- 
turned half  way  to  the  town,  when  she  met  this  legate  of  a 
rival  establishment,  and,  fearing  she  would  persuade  us  to 
forget  our  pledge  to  patronize  her.  she  returned  to  keep  an 
eye  upon  her  own  prospective  interests.  The  new  comer 
wTas  really  very  handsome,  and  withal  prettily  dressed, 
lively  and  witty,  which  excited,  in  no  small  degree,  the  sus- 
picion of  her  rival,  because  it  attracted  more  attention  to 
her  wares,  for  the  sake  of  her  pleasing  conversation. 

The  servant  took  me  aside,  and  advised  that  we  should 
patronize  the  first  in  preference,  representing,  with  Irish 
positiveness,  that  her  wares  were  much  better  and  cheaper  ; 
that  she  had  come  first,  and  had  a  right  to  our  custom ; 
that  the  last  was  an  interloper,  and  had  no  business  to  come 
here.  He  showed  a  good  deal  of  feeling,  and  tried  to  en- 
list Sir  Richard  on  his  side.  But  the  Knight  retained  a 
respectful  and  dignified  indifference,  refusing  to  give  a  pre- 
ference when  we  referred  to  him  as  umpire.  The  amuse- 
ment became  tiresome,  and  we  retired  to  our  chamber,  to 
enjoy  the  luxury  of  one  of  the  neatest  and  best  beds  we 
ever  laid  our  weary  limbs  upon. 


SCENERY. 


99 


CHAPTER    V . 

KILL  A.RNEY. 

A  Rural  Dwelling. — National  Schools. — Ascent  of  Mangerton. — A  Retinue. 
— Mary. — Favor. — Devil's  Punch  Bowl. — Bachelors'  Spring. — Mountain 
Bog. — A  Splendid  View. — The  Descent. — The  Lakes. — Dinas  Island. — 
Glena. — Innistallen. — Ross  Castle. — Lord  Kenmare. — The  Town  — 
Dinner. 

May  20. — We  took  an  early  ramble  through  the  hamlet 
of  Cloghereen,  and  back  among  the  cabins,  a  few  miles. 
The  sky  was  clear  and  bright.  The  sun  was  just  rising 
above  the  lofty  range  of  mountains.  Every  thing  in  na- 
ture was  calm  and  beautiful.  The  air  was  pure  and  deli- 
cious. The  wide-spread  and  richly  variegated  scenery  was 
painted  in  the  fairest  hues  of  a  delightful  spring  morning. 
Numerous  birds  were  caroling  their  sweetest  lays,  which 
mingled  harmoniously  with  the  silent  beauties  of  that  hour, 
in  a  grand  cantata  of  eloquent  praise  to  the  wise  and  good 
Father,  and  Preserver  of  all  things. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  no  part  of  earth  had  been  more  be- 
nevolently cared  for  than  this ;  that  no  where  was  there  a 
richer  profusion  of  natural  blessings,  a  stricter  adaptation 
of  all  the  means  of  human  enjoyment  to  the  great  end  of 
man's  existence — the  attainment  of  virtue,  tranquility,  and 
happiness.  The  eye  could  revel  amid  beauty  and  grandeur 
without  limit ;  the  ear  was  charmed  with  the  music  of 
birds ;  and  the  aroma  borne  on  the  passing  zephyr  added 
to  the  delights  of  such  an  hour. 

But  when  I  looked  for  the  finishing  adornment  of  such  a 
scene,  for  the  sparkling  gems  of  moral  and  intellectual 
beauty ;  for  the  refinement,  comfort,  and  social  equality  and 
prosperity  which  should  find  a  home  in  the  midst  of  this 
profusion  of  rural  magnificence  and  splendor,  mv  vision  re- 
turned to  me  the  burdens  of  wrong,  and  my  heart  was 
made  sad.  Tears  started  to  my  eyes,  and  a  sigh  came  in- 
voluntarily from  my  lips,  which  contrasted  strangely  with 


100 


a  peasant's  abode. 


the  sparkling  dew-drops  trembling  on  every  leaf,  and  the 
music  warbled  to  every  breeze.  The  words  of  one  of 
England's  sweetest  poets  rushed — a  little  altered — upon 
my  memory  : — 

"  What  though  delicious  breezes 

Blow  o'er  the  Emerald  Isle, 
And  every  prospect  pleases, 

While  only  man  is  vile : 
In  vain  with  lavish  kindness, 

The  gifts  of  God  are  strown, 
The  people,  in  their  blindness, 

Bow  down  to  Britain's  throne." 

We  called  at  the  door  of  the  best  looking  cottage,  simply 
to  ascertain  how  these  poor  people  live.  It  was  built  of 
stone,  laid  up  like  a  rough  cellar  wall,  in  common  mortar, 
without  any  plaster  inside.  The  outside  had  been  white- 
washed with  lime  at  some  former  period ;  we  judged  from 
the  patches  left  in  the  sheltered  places.  The  roof  was 
thatched  with  straw.  There  was  but  one  room,  perhaps 
fifteen  by  twenty  feet,  in  the  building,  one  door,  and  two 
small  windows  without  glass.  The  floor  was  the  cold 
ground,  clayed  over  with  a  thin  layer,  which  was  broken 
through  in  several  places.  A  coarse  frame,  serving  for  a 
bedstead,  stood  in  one  corner,  and  some  ragged  cloth- 
ing lay  upon  it.  Another  pile,  in  the  form  of  a  bed,  lay 
upon  the  ground  close  by  it.  Two  old  broken  chairs,  a 
small  bench — on  which  sat  a  little  girl,  with  a  child  in  her 
arms — an  unpainted  table  and  a  large  chest  constituted  the 
rest  of  the  furniture.  There  were  a  few  garments  hung 
about  the  room,  looking  common  and  dirty.  There  were 
no  floor  nor  cross  beams  over  head.  The  pointed  rafters, 
ribbed  so  as  to  sustain  the  layers  of  straw,  formed  the  ceil- 
ing, all  black  with  smoke,  which  had  not  escaped  so  readily 
as  could  have  been  wished  through  the  little  aperture  in  the 
ridge  of  the  roof  near  the  east  gable.  The  culinary  uten- 
sils consisted  of  an  iron  pot,  teakettle,  frying  pan,  and  a 
wooden  bucket  or  pail,  with  one  stave  higher  than  the  rest 


POVERTY   IN  HOPE. 


101 


and  rounded  for  a  handle,  stood  on  the  ground  near  an  open 
dresser,  which  displayed  five  plates,  one  or  two  teacups  and 
saucers,  a  wooden  noggin,  and,  it  might  be,  half  a  dozen 
other  articles.  This  was  all  the  furniture  the  house  con- 
tained, except  a  spade,  with  a  long  handle,  standing  in  one 
corner,  and  an  old  basket  near  the  fire-place. 

When  we  entered,  a  woman  was  squatted  down  by  a 
bunch  of  peat,  with  which  she  was  kindling  a  fire  on  the 
floor  beside  the  wall,  and  under  the  aperture  before  men- 
tioned. There  were  no  jambs,  no  hearth,  no  chimney, 
nothing  but  the  ground  and  three  stones,  so  placed  that  a 
kettle  could  rest  on  them  and  be  over  the  fire.  She  rose 
as  we  entered.  We  told  her  whence  we  came,  and  the  ob- 
ject of  our  visit — to  learn  how  Irish  people  lived  at  home. 

"  Indade,  an'  we  git  aloong  boot  poorly.  My  man  bes 
oout  o'  wark  these  moony  days,  an'  the  poor  childers,  as  ye 
sees,  bes  ragged,  an'  ofthen  cry  for  praties.  Boot  we're 
bether  as  how  we  was  last  yare,  foor  then  we  coome  nare 
stharvin'.  An'  Amiriky  bes  a  blissid  coounthry,  where 
ye've  ivery  thing  to  ate,  an'  tha  childers  nade  noot  be  afther 
cryin'  foor  hoonger.  Tha  good  Lord  bliss  us,  an'  we  hoope 
to  ba  afther  goin'  till  yer  blissid  coounthry  in  another  yare 
moore,  so  an'  tha  times  bes  goode." 

We  asked  her  if  her  husband  could  not  find  employment. 

"Rare  a  bit  duz  he  be  afther  gittin'  ofthen.    He  warks 

foor  Misther  ,  in  Cloghereen,  an'  pays  foor  the  rints, 

an'  tha  pasthurin'  foor  tha  gooats,  an'  he  gits  a  litthle  moore 
than  to  pay  the  cess.  Tha  Lord  huv  marcy  oon  us,  an' 
prootict  us  froom  stharvin',  as  moony  aboot  heres  did  last 
yare/' 

We  inquired  about  her  family,  how  many  children  she  had, 
whether  they  went  to  school,  what  they  learned,  and  what 
she  expected  to  do  with  them,  and  many  other  things 
which  served  to  give  us  some  insight  into  the  domestic  con- 
dition, habits,  and  prospects  of  these  poor  families.  She 
answered  all  our  inquiries  readily,  and  seemed  to  consider 
it  no  impertinence  on  our  part.    In  her  personal  appearance, 

9* 


102 


HUMAN  SUFFERING. 


if  properly  dressed,  she  would  pass  for  a  very  handsome 
woman.  She  might  be  thirty  years  old,  has  three  children, 
all  puny  little  creatures,  made  so  by  insufficient  and  un- 
wholesome food.  Their  clothes  were  nothing  but  a  chemise 
hung  loosely  about  their  lean  bodies,  giving  no  protection 
to  their  limbs  further  than  their  knees  and  elbows.  It  was 
a  picture  of  stark  poverty  such  as  I  have  never  beheld  in 
our  country.  We  spoke  some  words  of  comfort  and  hope 
and  left  a  small  benefaction,  for  which  we  received  many 
thanks  and  prayers  to  heaven  for  a  prosperous  journey  and 
a  safe  return. 

As  we  left  that  humble  cot,  and  gazed  again  on  the  beau- 
ties of  that  delicious  morning,  we  could  not  restrain  a  sigh 
for  the  misery  and  degradation  of  fallen  humanity,  nor  with- 
hold a  feeling  of  mingled  pity  and  contempt  for  those  who 
suffer  and  those  who  inflict  these  wrongs  upon  God's  chil- 
dren. There  is  something  sadly  out  of  joint  in  the  social 
relations  of  the  world.  Christianity  has,  so  far,  signally 
failed  to  produce  that  warm  and  generous  sympathy  which 
should  induce  its  professors  to  "  bear  one  anothers'  burdens," 
to  feed  the  poor,  clothe  the  naked,  visit  the  sick,  and  pro- 
vide for  strangers.  And  no  where  have  I  seen  wit,  and 
wealth,  and  beauty,  so  fearfully  contrasted  with  ignorance, 
poverty,  and  shame  as  here.  Never  before  have  I  seen  hu- 
manity so  crushed  and  fallen,  beneath  the  iron  hoof  of  op- 
pression. 

Tell  me  not  of  the  slaves  of  my  own  country.  They  are 
wronged  and  degraded  enough,  heaven  knows.  But  they 
do  not  starve,  and  in  their  warm  climate  rarely  freeze.  Here 
they  both  starve  and  freeze,  and  yet  are  free.  Free  ? 
Free  for  what  ?  Free  to  live  in  ignorance,  poverty,  and 
shame,  or  to  die  of  starvation  !  They  are  not  free  to  till 
the  soil :  not  free  to  work  for  a  recompense ;  not  free  to  kill 
the  hare  to  keep  it  from  their  cabbage-fields,  or  to  keep  the 
wife  and  children  from  the  horrors  of  starvation.  Call 
this  liberty  ?  It  is  the  liberty  to  be  a  slave,  to  be  wretched 
and  to  die  of  hunger. 


EDUCATION  WANTED. 


103 


But  the  patronizing  government  has  done  something  for 
these  poor  creatures.  It  hos  built  a  few  national  school 
houses,  it  has  established  work-houses,  and  extensive  bar- 
racks for  the  accommodation  of  soldiers,  and  police  stations 
for  the  employment  of  young  men  to  watch  the  people ; 
and  large  jails  for  all  sorts  of  offenders ;  and  it  has  enacted 
laws  so  stringent,  in  the  imposition  of  taxes  to  support  all 
these  establishments,  that  ordinary  farmers  are  made  poor, 
or  kept  so  by  the  exorbitant  rents  and  taxes  upon  what  little 
property  they  may  possess.  It  is  as  well  to  have  nothing 
as  a  small  estate,  for  landlords  and  publicans  soon  reduce 
both  to  an  equality.  And  even  the  rich  complain  most  bit- 
terly that  their  properties  are  encumbered  with  intolerably 
enormous  taxations,  which  will  soon  make  them  poor. 

Not  far  from  the  cabin  where  we  called  there  is  a  coarse 
stone  building  on  which  is  written  "  National  School,"  but 
it  compares  unfavorably  with  the  common  school  houses  of 
our  country.  It  is  a  cold,  heavy,  bleak -looking  building. 
There  is  nothing  attractive  about  it.  It  looks  more  like  an 
old  dilapidated  church,  or  county  jail  than  a  place  for  young 
and  ardent  minds  to  acquire  knowledge.  But  I  was  glad  to 
see  it  there.  The  simple  words  "  National  School,"  is  a  re- 
buke to  the  ignorance  that  so  extensively  abounds,  and  when 
they  are  made  free,  so  that  the  poor  can  be  educated,  will 
prove  to  be  the  great  bulwarks  of  freedom,  religion,  and 
happiness.  At  present,  not  half  the  people  can  afford  to 
send  their  children  at  all ;  and  very  few  more  than  two  or 
three  months,  for  a  certain  sum  has  to  be  paid  for  every 
child  which  attends.  This  the  poor  can  not  raise ;  so  their 
children  grow  up  in  ignorance. 

Talk  of  oppressive  taxes,  the  burden  upon  the  rich,  or 
the  inability  of  the  government  to  furnish  funds  for  educa- 
tion, as  much  as  they  will,  one  thing  is  certain,  the  condition 
of  Ireland  can  never  be  really  improved  till  the  people  are 
educated.  And  as  England  would  be  honorable  and  just, 
she  owes  it  to  the  oppressed  people  of  Ireland  to  give  them 
this  boon.    There  is  wealth  enough  among  the  higher 


104 


AMERICA. 


classes  to  send  abroad  the  schoolmaster  with  the  lessons 
of  wisdom,  sufficient  to  enlighten,  warm,  and  renovate  this 
depressed  and  miserable  country.  Think  of  the  millions 
squandered  by  the  rich  who  are  non-residents,  who  live  in 
splendor  and  worthlessness  in  London  or  on  the  continent, 
who  keep  large  tracts  of  land  unproductive,  for  hunting 
grounds,  and  come  here  once  in  two  or  three  years  to  amuse 
themselves  a  week  or  two  with  field  sports,  and,  leave  the 
people  to  die  in  ignorance  and  misery ! 

What  are  "  National  Schools"  more  than  a  name  under 
such  regulations  as  these.  We  had  to  struggle  long  in  our 
own  land  before  the  rich  could  understand  why  they  should 
assist  to  educate  the  children  of  the  poor.  And  even  now 
some  States  do  not  admit  the  doctrine,  and  in  none  are  the 
highest  rooms  of  learning  open  to  the  poor.  A  young  man 
must  have  wealth  before  he  can  graduate  with  the  honors 
of  a  college.  Thousands  of  the  brightest  genius  of  our 
country  are  doomed  to  years  of  severe  toil  to  acquire  the 
knowledge  which  wealth  bestows,  on  easy  terms,  upon  its 
favorites.  But  so  far  as  common  schools — the  just  pride  of 
America — are  concerned,  we  are  far  in  advance  of  Great 
Britain.  They  are  the  defences  of  our  free  institutions, 
stronger  than  walls  and  fortresses,  and  mightier  than  armies 
and  navies.  Ireland  never  can  be  redeemed,  nor  England 
be  truly  free,  noble  and  glorious,  without  them. 

ASCENT    OF    MANGER TON. 

After  breakfast  the  ponies  we  had  ordered,  were  brought 
to  the  door,  and  each  made  his  selection  and  mounted. 
The  two  Englishmen  joined  our  company,  making  five  in 
all.  Sir  Richard  was  in  attendance,  staff  in  hand,  ready 
for  the  ascent.  I  said  to  him,  "  Is  your  honor  to  go  on 
foot  ?  That  will  never  do.  You  are  too  old,  too  infirm, 
and  of  too  honorable  extraction  to  be  reduced  to  such  toil. 
Besides  that  asthma  might  come  on  and  deprive  us  of  your 


A   POXY  RIDE. 


105 


excellent  company,  and  vast  fund  of  information.  Go,  get 
yourself  a  pony  and  it  will  cost  us  but  a  trifle  a-piece." 

It  did  us  good  to  see  the  effect  of  this  speech.  Sir  Richard 
cheered  up  in  an  instant,  ordered  his  pony,  mounted  and  sat 
upright  with  as  much  dignity  as  if  he  had  been  the  Duke  of 
Wellington.  With  his  little  brass  horn  he  sounded  the 
command  and  started  on  before  our  cavalcade.  A  dozen 
men  and  boys  had  been  hanging  about  the  hotel,  begging 
the  privilege  to  go  up  with  us  and  hold  our  horses.  We  had 
denied  all ;  but  half  of  them  started  of  in  hot  pursuit ;  and 
on  our  way  we  found  several  had  crone  in  advance. 

Sir  Richard  led  the  van  for  some  distance,  I  noticed,  in 
ascending  up  a  steep  ascent,  several  women  started  out 
from  behind  the  masses  of  rocks  and  spoke  to  him.  On 
the  plain,  part  way  up  the  mountain,  occupied  as  a  pasture 
for  cows,  horses,  and  sheep,  there  are  several  rude  huts 
scattered  about,  more  miserable  than  the  one  before  described. 
Some  of  them  are  destitute  of  gardens,  fences,  trees,  and 
every  thing ;  standing  out  solitary  and  alone  in  the  rocky 
pasture.  The  business  of  the  inmates  is,  to  tend  the  flocks  and 
take  care  of  the  dairies ;  to  work  in  the  bos,  cutting,  drying  and 
carting  the  turf;  or  to  labor  in  the  town  upon  the  farms  of  the 
landlords.  Some  of  the  women  knit  stockings  and. spin 
yarn,  which  they  sell  at  the  fairs.  In  the  summer  the 
young  women  and  boys  make  quite  a  business  by  following 
visitors  to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  or  about  to  the  distant 
places  visited  by  strangers,  to  hold  their  horses  and  furnish 
them  with  ''goat's  milk  and  mountain  dew."  This  is,  in 
common  times,  by  far  the  most  profitable  employment  they 
can  find.  The  girls  are  furnished  with  a  clean  wooden 
mug,  in  which  they  carry  milk,  an  earthen  cup  which  serves 
for  a  cover  to  the  milk,  and  a  tumbler  to  drink  from,  and  a 
small  square  flask  for  the  whiskey. 

On  attaining  the  first  eminence  we  were  beset  bv  a  flock 
of  these  girls,  who  carried  their  mugs  under  a  coarse  cover, 
but  held  them  out  to  us,  half  a  dozen  speaking  at  once,  and 
all  urging  us  to  drink.    We  refused,  trying  to  put  them  off 


106 


UNEXPECTED  COMPANY. 


till  our  return.  We  could  not  drive  them  away  till  they 
saw  another  coining,  when  they  forsook  us  and  laid  siege 
to  him.  We  cantered  our  ponies  briskly  over  the  plain, 
thinking  to  outrun  these  annoyances  of  girls  and  boys,  who 
were  so  very  anxious  to  do  us  service.  But  on  ascending 
the  next  height  we  found  ourselves  waylaid  by  another  set, 
as  earnest  in  their  efforts  to  promote  our  happiness  as  the 
former.  We  really  might  have  thought  ourselves  much  hon- 
ored bv  these  attentions,  had  it  not  been  so  obvious  that 
some  other  feeling  than  respect  or  gratitude  moved  them  to 
bestow  on  us  such  marked  attentions.  We  asked  Sir  Ri- 
chard what  was  to  be  done,  how  we  should  meet  these  nu- 
merous demands  upon  our  gallantry.  He  could  give  us  no 
directions,  point  out  no  way  of  escape,  so  we  resolved  to 
make  the  annoyance  as  light  as  possible.  I  accepted  from 
one,  the  most,  intelligent,  a  cup  of  milk.  She  wanted  me 
to  promise  not  to  receive  any  from  any  other,  as  she  would 
serve  me  better  than  they  could.  I  now  saw  the  meaning 
of  what  I  did  not  understand  before — why  the  girls  yester- 
day, and  those  we  met  this  morning,  wanted  us  to  engage 
them  to  go  to  the  top  of  Mangerton.  And,  on  inquiry,  I 
found  there  was  a  good  deal  of  opposition  in  this  business, 
which,  sometimes  leads  to  severe  fights  between  the  dauGfh- 
ters  of  the  mountain  and  those  of  Cloo;hereen,  and  Killar- 
ney.  A  sort  of  tacit  agreement  prevails  that  any  one  en- 
gaged had,  of  course,  the  right  of  protection.  I  told  Mary 
I  hardly  dared  make  her  the  promises  she  asked,  lest  she 
should  forsake  me  and  go  to  serve  the  Englishmen,  who 
looked  smarter. 

"  Niver  a  bit,  I'll  do  it ;  that  I  wont ;  not  if  yer  honor'il 
take  noo  milk  nor  potheen  froom  iny  ither  boot  meself,"  she 
said,  with  a  modest  courtesy. 

"  But  the  women  are  apt  to  be  treacherous  and  faithless, 
are  they  not  ?" 

"  Upoon  my  shoul,  an  I'll  not  be  afther  giving  a  sangle 
dhrop  to  inny  gintilmin  boot  yerself,  not  at  all,  at  all." 

"  What  do  you  ask  for  your  milk  and  whiskey?" 


A  CONVERSATION. 


107 


"  Joost  what  yer  honor  bes  plased  to  give;  and  I'll  hoold 
yer  poony  foor  yer  while  yer  goone  till  the  toop  o'  Manger- 
ton  and  ye  need  not  git  any  boye  to  hoold  it." 

"  That  would  not  be  respectable.  In  our  country  we  do 
not  treat  our  women  in  that  way.  We  make  ladies  of 
them,  and  keep  them  in  the  house." 

"  Sure  an'  I  wish  I  was  in  Amiriky.  I've  a  coousin  there. 
She  bes  there  these  five  yare,  an'  has  sint  hoome  foor  her 
broother  an'  sister,  the  mooney  for  their  passage,  an'  they 
bes  goone  these  thra  yares.    An'  I'd  like  to  goo." 

"Why  don't  you  go  ?" 

"  Och,sure,  an'becase  I've  noo  mooney  enough  till  take  me 
there.  I'm  thrving  to  save  enough,  but  I  doont  know,  so 
mooney  ither  coome  here,  we  git  boot  little."  And  she 
looked  sad. 

"  Would  you  go  home  with  me  if  I  would  pay  your  pas- 
sage, and  live  with  me  ?" 

She  looked  up  to  me  earnestly,  as  if  to  ascertain  whether 
I  was  serious ;  and  I  looked  so,  unless  my  face  belied  my 
heart.  She  smiled,  as  a  tear  gathered  in  her  eye,  and  in  a 
changed  voice,  which  trembled  and  hesitated  for  some  mo- 
ments, she  replied  modestly  : 

"  Yis,  sir,  if  yer  honor'll  take  me,  and  my  mither'll  con- 
sint ;  an'  I'll  work  fur  ye  a  whoole  yare  to  pay  ye." 

"  Do  you  think  your  mother  would  consent  to  let  you  go 
with  a  stranger,  with  a  man  of  whom  she  knows  nothing  ?" 

"  I'll  ax  her  when  we  goo  doown,  and  let  ye  know.  My 
coousin  wintj  and  they  were  sthrangers  to  her  in  yer  cooun- 
thry.  The  Americans  are  all  rich  and  good  peoples ;  I 
should  like  to  goo  there.  They  sint  us  soo  much  male  last 
yare  which  kept  us  from  stharvin,  I  know  they'd  be  good  to 
a  poor  Irish  girl." 

This  conversation  continued  for  a  long  time,  and  on  va- 
rious subjects,  as  she  kept  close  by  my  horse  all  the  way, 
and  did  not  leave  me  for  a  minute  till  we  reached  the  well 
near  the  top  of  the  mountain.  She  was  a  girl,  perhaps, 
eighteen,  of  medium  stature  and  very  well  formed.  Her 


108 


CONDITION  DESCRIBED. 


manners  were  very  simple  and  modest,  savoring  little  of  the 
coarseness  we  see  in  many  of  her  nation.  She  was  intelli- 
gent, for  one  uneducated,  being  barely  able  to  read,  and 
seemed  to  possess  all  the  pre-requisites  for  a  good  scholar. 
I  was  surprised  at  the  shrewdness  and  propriety  of  much 
of  her  conversation.  She  showed  a  strong  and  active 
mind,  which  had  profited  by  what  she  had  seen  and  heard. 
But  she  had  never  been  but  three  miles  from  home,  nor  seen 
many  strangers,  except  those  who  came  to  visit  this  moun- 
tain ;  for  it  was  rare  that  others  suffered  her  to  go  to  the 
Reeks,  or  to  the  Gap  of  Dunloe. 

She  told  me  she  always  went  to  mass  on  Sunday,  and 
rarely  ever  went  to  the  town  on  any  other  occasion.  She 
lived  with  her  mother,  who  was  a  widow  with  four  children, 
all  younger  than  herself,  and  did  what  she  could  to  help  her 
support  them.  They  had  two  goats,  from  the  milk  of 
which  they  derived  most  of  their  living.  They  knit  some 
stockings,  spun  some  wool,  and  sometimes  she  carried  turf 
from  the  bog.  But  she  earned  most  by  serving  those  who 
came  in  summer  to  visit  the  mountain.  One  of  her  sisters 
died  the  year  before  of  starvation.  She  wept  like  a  child 
while  she  described  to  me  the  sufferings  they  endured,  and 
spoke  in  the  most  glowing  terms  of  their  joy  when  they  re- 
ceived from  the  committee  of  distribution  a  few  pints  of 
corn  meal,  which  had  been  sent  from  our  country. 

1  have  not  wondered  since  that  hour,  why  Irishmen  should 
be  ready  to  forswear  their  country  and  seek  a  home  in 
America.  The  cause  is  plain  enough.  I  shall  henceforth, 
with  all  their  faults,  feel  very  differently  for  them  than  in 
times  past. 

Two  or  three  of  our  party  were  in  advance  of  us.  A 
girl  for  each  was  clambering  over  the  rough  stones  to  keep 
close  to  them.  When  ascending  the  steep  places  they  would 
cling  hold  of  the  horses'  tails  with  one  hand  to  help  them- 
selves along  more  easily.  None  of  them  had  on  shoes,  and 
but  two  of  them  any  covering  for  the  head.  One  of 
them  was  a  very  large,  coarse-featured  woman,  whose  looks 


EXCLUSIVENESS. 


109 


were  any  thing  but  fascinating — a  real  specimen  of  the 
worst  looking  Irish  wTho  emigrate.  She  could  speak  but  a 
few  words  of  English.  But  her  looks  and  actions  betokened 
her  thoughts.  She  tried  to  ingratiate  herself  into  the  ser- 
vice of  the  Englishmen,  so  as  to  secure  their  patronage  of 
her  "milk  and  dew."  But  she  found  them  very  untracta- 
ble.  They  did  take  some,  however,  once  or  twice,  but  with 
such  an  ill  grace,  that  the  sixpence  fell  coldly  into  her  hand. 
They  kept  clear  of  everything  like  sociability  or  friendliness 
with  the  men  and  women  and  boys  who  attended  us,  main- 
taining an  air  of  self-importance  which  cowered  all  about 
them,  and  awakened  feelings  of  antipathy  to  which  they 
gave  free  expression  in  their  absence. 

A  strong  feeling  of  hostility  exists  between  the  Irish  and 
English,  and  especially  between  the  Catholics  and  Protes- 
tants, which  refuses  all  reconciliation,  and  manifests  itself  on 
all  occasions  where  they  come  in  contact.  The  Protestant 
Irish  are  regarded  with  more  favor  by  the  English,  and 
manv  efforts  are  made  to  array  them  against  their  own 
countrymen ;  in  too  many  instances  with  entire,  or  partial 
success.  A  good  deal  of  jealousy  prevails  among  the 
Catholics  towards  all  Protestants,  growing  out  of  the  oppres- 
sions and  privations  inflicted  for  the  support  of  the  govern- 
ment religion.  We  saw  numerous  exhibitions  of  this  feel- 
ing, not  less  frequent  upon  one  side  than  the  other.  The 
slightest  opportunity  seemed  to  justify  an  expression  of  ill- 
feeling. 

These  two  gentlemen  were  strangers.  Their  conduct 
was  in  all  respects  very  proper  and  honorable.  They 
showed  no  disposition  to  irritate  or  injure  those  who  came 
about  them,  but,  so  far  as  we  saw,  treated  all  respectfully 
and  paid  liberally  for  what  they  had.  But  it  required  little 
sagacity  to  perceive  that  there  was  no  real  respect  or  sym- 
pathy felt  for  these  people.  There  was  a  bluntness,  a  hau- 
teur, and  exclusiveness,  and  a  patronizing  manner  about 
them  which  excited  neither  gratitude  nor  esteem.  They 

10 


110 


WATER  SCENE. 


were  shunned,  or  approached  timorously,  merely  to  serve 
them  for  what  they  might  receive. 

We  may  have  been  deceived,  cheated  by  our  own  vanity ; 
or  it  might  have  been  that  they  hoped  to  receive  more  gen- 
erous compensation  from  us  ;  but  it  was  a  fact,  obvious  to 
all,  that  wherever  we  were  known  as  Americans,  we  re- 
ceived the  most  marked  attentions,  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest.  All  seemed  anxious  to  serve  us  to  the  utmost  of 
their  ability,  to  answer  all  our  questions,  and  ask  us  a  thou- 
sand more  about  our  "  blissid  coounthry."  And  occasions 
were  not  wanting  when  they  vented  to  us  their  feelings  of 
hatred  for  the  English,  sneering  covertly  at  the  manners  or 
some  expressions  of  the  men  in  our  company,  which  others, 
less  alienated  and  inimical  in  their  feelings,  would  never 
have  noticed.  They  kept  close  to  us,  and  each  tried  to 
supplant  the  other,  by  offering  us  drink.  I  told  them  I 
had  chosen  Mary,  for  mine,  and  that  I  should  not  drink 
milk  nor  water  from  the  cup  of  another.  This  saved  me 
all  further  annoyance,  from  which  my  companions  were  not 
so  luckily  exempted. 

On  arriving  near  the  summit,  we  ascended  into  a  basin, 
or  crater,  in  the  bottom  of  which  is  a  small  pond,  called  the 
"Devil's  Punch  Bowl."  It  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water;  it 
may  be  twenty  rods  wide  and  a  hundred  long,  of  an  oval 
form  and  bordered  by  an  inaccessible  precipice  upon  the 
south  and  east  sides,  the  dark  and  rugged  outlines  of  which 
reflect  their  hideous  forms  from  the  mirror  surface  of  the 
lake.  It  is  said,  with  what  truth  I  know  not,  that  no  line 
has  been  found  long  enough  to  sound  its  depth.  It  is  also 
told,  as  a  great  marvel,  that  Lord  Somebody  actually  swam 
quite  around  it,  but  suffered  a  severe  sickness  in  conse- 
quence. The  water,  at  this  season,  is  very  cold  and  clear, 
and  Sir  Richard  said  it  retained  the  same  temperature  at  all 
seasons  of  the  year. 

Near  the  border  of  the  Bowl  is  a  fine  clear  spring  of  lim- 
pid water,  called  the  "Bachelor's  Well."  The  girls  all 
rushed  forward  in  advance  of  us,  dipped  a  cup  full,  and  run- 


THE  BROGUE. 


Ill 


ning  back,  thrust  it  into  our  faces.  Of  course  we  must 
drink,  but  before  doing  so,  we  inquired  what  were  the  pecu- 
liar virtues  of  the  water.  Sir  Richard  replied,  that  it  had 
been  believed,  from  time  immemorial,  that  any  bachelor 
drinking  three  times  of  this  water  would  be  sure  to  fall  in 
love  with  some  lady  whom  he  would  finally  marry. 

I  asked  Mary,  who  held  her  cup  out  to  me,  if  she  be- 
lieved that  ?  She  looked  down  modestly  and  replied,  "  They 
say  so." 

"  Is  there  any  danger  if  one  drinks  but  little  ?  for  I  am 
very  dry." 

"  Sorra  a  taste  o'  it'll  harm  ye  at  all,  at  all ;  barrin  yer 
honor  do  kape  clare  o'  tastin'  a  dhrop  o'  it  the  third  time ;"  ' 
said  a  middle-aged  woman  I  had  not  noticed  before. 

"  And  what  if  one  of  us  should  chance  to  drink  the  third 
time,  and  then  take  a  notion  to  love  and  marry  some  'Kate 
o'  Killarney do  you  suppose  there  would  be  a  chance  of 
success,  or  would  he  be  obliged  to  throw  himself  in  despair 
down  the  precipice  into  the  Horse  Glen,  about  which  Sir 
Richard  has  been  telling  us  ?" 

"  Faix,  sir  ;  nivir  a  bit  o'  it  at  all ;  for,  sure  there  do  not 
bes  the  likes  of  a  purty  damsel  in  all  swate  Ireland  as 
wouldn't  marry  ony  gintilmin  froom  Amiriky,  an'  go  till 
there  wid  him,  an'  make  him  a  gude  wooman,  an'  rare  up 
his  childers  as  dacenter  nor  the  rapscallions  at  hoome  " 

"  Upon  my  honor,  were  I  a  young  man,  I  might  be 
tempted  to  take  a  third  and  copious  draught  from  this 
charmed  fountain,  with  such  a  prospect  before  me." 

"  Musha,  an'  ye'd  nivir  lamint  it  at  all,  foor  ye'd  save 
anither  poor  craytur'  froom  poverty  an'  sufferin',  and  la.-  « 
her  in  the  road  to  happiness." 

"  Begorra,  'tis  that  same  what  I'm  thinkin,  too,"  said  Sir 
Richard,  in  a  genuine  Kerry  brogue,  forgetting  his  fashion 
of  English  accent.  "  W e've  as  handsomer,  an'  dacenter, 
an'  cliverer  nor  can  be  foound  in  ony  ither  coounthry,  an' 
will  make  yer  honor  as  moore  happy.  Aych,  there  now, 
Mary,  in  troth,  ye've  noo  nade  to  look  so  moody.  Ye're 


112 


AN  ADVENTURE. 


no  spalpeen,  to  be  ashamed.  Oh,  wirra,  ye  do  bes  lookin' 
as  a  colleen  goin'  to  confission,"  said  he,  merrily. 

Finding  the  comments  of  these  simple-hearted  people 
growing  rather  direct  and  personal,  I  returned  to  our  com- 
pany, mounted  my  pony,  and  started  off  by  a  path  which 
led  around  the  south  side  of  the  crowning  summit.  None 
followed  me,  and  I  did  not  perceive  my  mistake  till  I  heard 
the  trumpet  of  Sir  Richard,  whom  I  saw  on  foot;  turned 
directly  up  towards  the  peak.  He  called  me  back.  But 
my  ambition  led  me  to  seek  the  top  by  a  direct  route.  I 
attempted  to  turn  my  pony,  but  he  refused  to  put  his  foot 
upon  the  grassy  turf.  I  urged  him  in  vain.  Despairing  of 
riding  him  further,  I  turned  him  about  and  dismounted,  and 
then  started  on  foot  to  ascend  to  the  summit. 

I  soon  learned  the  reason  why  the  pony  would  not  ven- 
ture from  the  path.  The  soft  bog  would  not  bear  him ; 
and  I  found  it  impossible  to  proceed  without  miring.  I  re- 
turned to  the  path,  but  my  horse  was  now  a  full  half  mile 
from  me.  A  little  farther  on,  I  found  the  bed  of  a  ravine, 
up  which  I  followed  for  some  distance.  The  bottom  was 
of  naked  granite,  of  a  light  hue  and  a  good  deal  fractured. 
On  either  side,  the  soft,  black  bog  was  piled  up  from  six  to 
eight  feet  deep.  The  rains  had  washed  out  the  narrow 
ditch  up  which  I  went.  Clambering  up  the  side,  I  saw  that 
it  would  bear  me  while  I  kept  close  to  the  edge  ;  but  the 
moment  I  stepped  aside,  I  began  to  sink.  I  could  thrust 
my  cane  down  the  full  length  of  it  any  where. 

I  was  much  surprised  to  find  a  deep  bed  of  peat  crown- 
ing the  very  apex  of  the  mountain,  and  extending  far  down 
its  sides,  except  where  the  rocks  were  so  steep  that  the  rains 
had  washed  it  all  away.  I  had  supposed  the  bogs  were  in 
low  valleys  only,  where  masses  of  vegetable  matter  had 
been  deposited  from  the  higher  lands  by  the  rains  which 
wash  the  mountains.  But  here,  upon  the  rounded  sum- 
mit of  a  mountain,  two  thousand  seven  hundred  feet  high, 
is  a  vast  field  of  bog,  averaging,  as  far  as  I  could  judge,  the 
depth  of  six  feet,  and  resting  directly  upon  a  surface  of 


MOUNTAIN  SCENERY. 


113 


smooth  granite,  of  which  the  mountain  is  principally  com- 
posed. There  is  no  layer  of  clay,  no  strata  of  marl,  sand, 
or  gravel  beneath  it.  The  surface  of  the  bog  is  covered 
by  a  thin  grass,  the  roots  forming  a  shallow  sward,  which 
is  insufficient  to  bear  men  or  cattle,  when  the  mass  below 
is  saturated,  as  it  generally  is,  with  water. 

With  great  difficulty,  I  succeeded  in  reaching  the  summit 
as  soon  as  my  companions.  Here  we  had  a  magnificent 
prospect  in  all  directions,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  ex- 
cept a  small  space  at  the  west,  towards  Derry-Nane — the 
former  residence  of  O'Connell,  which  was  hidden  by  the  high- 
est peak  in  Ireland,  Carran  Tual,  and  McGillicuddy's  Reeks, 
which  stand  like  towers  of  defence  about  their  royal  mas- 
ter. North  of  them,  beyond  a  fine,  undulating  country, 
we  could  see  Dingle  Bay  ;  and  on  the  south,  over  rough, 
barren  hills,  cut  in  pieces  by  deep  glens  and  widening  vales, 
lay,  in  glassy  brightness,  the  Bay  of  Kenm.ire,  and  a  little 
further,  over  another  rough  range,  through  which  we  could 
trace  the  celebrated  and  romantic  Glen-gariff,  was  Bantry 
Bay,  and,  still  further,  Cape  Clear  and  the  broad  Atlantic. 

Towards  the  east,  a  long  line  of  broken,  barren,  heathy 
hills,  rocky  dells,  and  deep  ravines.  The  romantic  valley 
of  the  Flask,  winding  tortuously  through  this  wild  and  des- 
olate region,  so  well  described  in  Lever's  O'Donoghue,  is 
distinctly  traced — the  rounded  Paps  and  Cahirconree  on  the 
one  side,  and  Croghon  and  Keim-an-eigh  on  the  other.  In 
this  direction  is  a  scene  of  wild  and  confused  desolation, 
such  as  the  eye  rarely  rests  upon,  which  contrasts  forcibly 
with  the  beautiful  and  cultivated  vales  beyond,  and  the 
broad  and  gently  undulating  plains  on  the  north. 

What  adds  greatly  to  the  beauty  of  this  remarkably  pic- 
turesque scenery  are  the  numerous  little  lakes  which  be- 
spangle it  like  stars  in  the  deep  blue  firmament  of  heaven. 
Scarcely  a  hut  or  sign  of  human  habitation  meets  the  eye  in 
all  this  range.  The  lone  house  of  "O'Donoghue  o'  the 
Glen,"  and,  not  far  off,  the  hunting  lodge  of  some  nobleman, 
were  pointed  out  by  Sir  Richard,  and  occasionally  a  few 

10* 


114 


PICTURESQUE  SCENERY. 


wretched  cabins,  tenanted  by  a  most  miserable  race,  who 
keep  a  few  goats  and  till,  where  they  can,  a  few  patches  of 
earth  with  potatoes,  oats  or  barley. 

I  had  never  dreamed  that  such  a  dreary,  mountainous 
district  could  be  found  in  the  Emerald  Isle ;  never  that  a 
landscape  so  variegated,  wild,  and  picturesque  was  to  be 
looked  for,  except  in  Scotland  or  Switzerland.  The  lakes 
and  town  of  Killarnev,  the  shaded  villas,  the  small  and  vari- 
colored  fields,  the  innumerable  white  thatched  huts  dotting 
the  broad  sweep  of  cultivated  and  apparently  level  land, 
west  and  north,  which,  seen  at  this  distance,  look  very  neat 
and  comfortable  ;  the  floating  clouds,  which  once  or  twice 
completely  enveloped  us  in  mist — every  thing,  in  fine,  con- 
spired to  entrance  me  with  the  beauty,  splendor,  and  nov- 
elty of  the  scene. 

The  view  from  the  top  of  Mount  Washington  is  more 
grand,  more  awfully  sublime,  but  lacks  the  variety,  beauty, 
and  romance  of  this  spot.  There  we  see  no  crumbling 
castles,  ivyed  abbeys,  ruined  monasteries,  unfinished  cathe- 
dral, gray  old  towers,  embowered  villas,  O'Donoghue  le- 
gends, sportsmens'  lodges,  shepherds'  cots,  thatched  cabins, 
Irish  wit,  and  Celtic  songs.  We  have  beautiful  lakes, 
though  none  so  sweet  and  silvery  as  these  scattered  all 
about  us.  We  have  narrow  defiles,  but  none  more  wild, 
and  picturesque,  than  Glen-garifT,  the  Pass  of  Keim-an-eigh, 
the  Gap  of  Dunloe,  or  Commedhuv.  We  have  taller  moun- 
tains, and  ranges,  and  spurs  shooting  off  in  different  direc- 
tions, but  none  more  bleak  and  wildly  confused  than  these. 
Ours  mingle  not  the  white,  bleached  granite,  rising,  occa- 
sionally, in  perpendicular  masses,  with  the  brown  heather, 
purple  erica,  dark  green  patches  of  moor  and  fen,  and 
glassy  lakelets. 

We  have  more  patriotic  names,  but  none  so  venerable 
and  euphonious  as  Carran  Tual,  Cahirconree,  Cracmaveel, 
Finnevagogh,  Cruchnabinny,  Fortagrisane,  GlengarifF,  Too- 
mies,  and  Cahir  Reeks.  Ours  have  a  newness  and  freshness, 
which,  in  one  sense,  charms  us.    They  rise  from  the  midst 


A   SOBER  THOUGHT. 


115 


of  vast  forests,  which  climb  far  up  their  sides,  till  dwindled 
into  shrubs  and  moss ;  then  come  the  naked  and  confused 
masses  of  dark  rocks.  These  plant  their  deeply  indented 
bases  on  broad  fields  of  rich  soil,  bedotted  with  lakes,  towns, 
hamlets,  and  huts,  which  latter  extend  up  their  shrubless 
sides  as  far  as  space  of  earth  is  found  to  till. 

The  remains  of  centuries  are  here  ;  and  the  mind  wanders 
from  the  wonderful  and  sublime  in  natural  scenery,  to  con- 
template, in  solemn,  gloomy  silence,  the  waste  and  desola- 
tions of  time ;  the  fearful  transitions  through  which  hu- 
manity passes  ;  the  wrongs,  and  outrages,  and  brutality  of 
man  towards  his  brother ;  the  poverty,  ignorance,  and  de- 
gradation which  revel  amid  such  natural  splendor  and  pro- 
fuse benevolence  :  the  excessive  jar  of  human  wretched- 
ness, which  grates  hatefully  upon  the  ear,  where  so  much 
poetry  mingles  in  all  the  works  of  God  ! 

Oh,  the  curse  of  oppression  !  of  kingcraft,  and  priestcraft, 
and  goldcraft !  How  many  millions  groan  in  the  most  ab- 
ject bondage,  to  gratify  and  pamper  the  few  !  What  fear- 
ful judgments  await  the  oppressors  of  their  fellow-men  !  the 
abusers  of  the  world !  the  disgracers  of  human  nature ! 
Will  God  hold  them  guiltless  who  so  disfigure  and  despoil 
the  richest  beauties  of  His  works,  and  suffer  no  feeling  of 
gratitude  to  glow  in  yearning  kindness  for  his  suffering 
sons  and  daughters  ?  Will  he  for  ever  suffer  the  heel  of 
arrogance  and  pride  to  tramp  upon  the  rights,  the  comforts, 
and  souls  of  his  children  ?  Shall  the  thousands  starve 
amid  ra^s  and  filth,  while  the  few  roll  in  luxury  and 
quaff,  without  emotion,  the  sweat  and  blood  of  their  breth- 
ren ?  Is  justice  no  longer  in  the  earth  ?  Has  benevolence 
fled  in  despair  to  return  not,  ever  ?  Is  there  no  mercy — 
not  a  ray  of  hope  ?  Are  the  heavens  draped  in  darkness, 
and  the  earth  an  uncared-for  battle-field,  where  wrong  tri- 
umphs,  and  error  bears  rule  ? 

No  !  I  cannot  believe  it !  It  is  impossible !  Here  stand 
the  everlasting  hills,  there  roll  the  waves  of  the  mighty 
ocean ;  and  yonder  peer  out  the  golden  rays  of  the  blessed  sun, 


116 


A  LEGEND. 


which  encircles  the  earth  and  the  heavens  with  his  light 
and  warmth — emblems  of  Almighty  Power  and  Benevo- 
lence, which  reign  omnipotent  and  universal  over  all  things! 
Infinite  Wisdom  is  leading  individuals  and  nations  by  "ways 
they  know  not."  Adored  be  His  name  ;  the  glory  of  His 
great  goodness  shall  be  revealed  and  enjoyed  in  His  time. 
Let  all  the  nations  put  their  trust  in  Him. 

THE  DESCENT. 

After  lingering  behind  a  considerable  time,  to  gaze  upon 
the  profuse  grandeur  of  this  magnificent  landscape,  giving 
free  scope  to  my  reflections — for  I  always  loved  mountains 
— I  hastened  to  overtake  my  companions,  who  were  crossing 
a  narrow  and  dangerous  neck  which  separates  the  Devil's 
Punch  Bowl  from  the  Glen  of  the  Horse,  in  the  bottom  of 
which  is  a  small  sheet  of  water,  called  "  O'Donoghue's 
Horse  Pond."  From  the  surface,  which  is  not  twenty  rods 
over,  the  hills  rise  abruptly — on  the  south,  a  perpendicular 
rock  forms  the  ridge  from  which  we  had  descended  ;  on  the 
west,  nearly  so,  and  on  the  north 'more  gradually.  On  the 
steep,  grassy  sides,  small  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats  were 
feeding,  and  a  shepherdess  was  not  far  off,  watching  them. 
On  the  east  there  is  a  narrow  opening,  which  winds  around 
the  foot  of  one  of  the  Passes,  through  which  runs  the  Flask 
and  the  road  from  Ballvvournev,  by  the  old  ruin  of  O'Don- 
oghue  castle,  to  Killarney.  It  is  a  wild  and  lonely  spot. 
From  the  top  of  the  hills,  fifteen  hundred  feet  above  the 
pond,  the  basin  is  not  half  a  mile  over,  and  from  where  we 
stood,  to  the  Pass,  less  than  two  miles. 

Sir  Richard  related  several  legends  of  love  and  heroism 
connected  with  this  singularly  romantic  spot,  and  pointed 
out  the  place  where  a  certain  valiant  knight,  of  the  feudal 
time,  was  chased  along  the  crest  of  the  giddy  ridge — the 
horse  making  a  fearful  plunge  down  the  craggy  precipice  to 
the  bottom  of  the  glen,  was  instantly  crushed  to  a  thousand 
atoms,  while  the  dashing  hero  by  a  masterly  spring,  clung 


SUPERSTITION. 


117 


safely  upon  a  projection  of  the  cliff  till  his  pursuing  enemy 
passed  by.  From  this  legend  came  the  name  of  "  Horse 
Glen,"  by  which  the  locality  is  now  designated. 

Upon  the  other  side  of  the  Bowl,  Sir  Richard  showed  us 
O'Donoghue's  wash-basin,  soap  and  towel — a  little  pond  a 
rod  over,  and  a  large  flat  rock  set  on  one  edge  and  a  rounded 
one  near  it,  which  the  fancy  of  this  simple  people  has 
wrought  into  such  a  likeness.  A  little  farther,  there  is  a 
large  flat  stone,  with  rounded  edges,  leaning  upon  another, 
weighing  two  or  three  tons.  This  is  O'Donoghue's  quoit 
with  which  he  used  to  try  his  hand  with  the  devil  after 
drinking  copiously  from  the  Punch  Bowl.  Close  by  is  the 
Pulpit,  conjured  out  of  a  massive  stone  which  stands  up  by 
itself.  A  fracture  in  one  side  of  it  answers  for  a  stairway 
before  which  is  a  fragment  upon  which  to  spread  the  book. 
Just  before  the  Pulpit  is  a  small  rock  called  the  Reading 
Desk.  Here  O'Donoghue  held  his  religious  services.  Far- 
ther down  the  mountain  is  his  coffee  cup,  and  Beelzebub's 
wine-glass. 

The  singular  contiguity  of  ail  this  paraphernalia  of 
sport  and  piety,  pulpit  and  punch  bowl,  saint  and  devil,  love 
and  lechery,  strangely  mingled  in  the  legends  of  the  place,  as 
related  by  Sir  Richard,  is  not  without  a  parallel  in  the  sober 
realities  of  later  times.  Could  the  abominations  of  wicked 
and  deceitful  men  be  all  made  known,  what  a  strange  and 
confused  mixture  would  appear !  But  the  girls  are  crowd- 
ing round  us  with  their  mountain  dew  and  goats'  milk,  and 
we  have  no  time  to  moralize. 

It  is  as  much  as  we  can  do  to  resist  the  importunities  of 
these  poor  creatures,  who  begin  to  fear  that,  as  we  drink 
nothinsf,  thev  shall  receive  little  nay. 

I  was  considerably  amused  to  see  with  what  earnestness 
these  women  would  beset  some  of  our  party.  The  strap- 
ping girl  who  could  speak  scarcely  a  word  of  English,  was 
most  zealous  in  her  efforts  to  get  rid  of  her  potheen.  She 
treated  Sir  Richard  several  times  to  induce  him  to  use  his 
influence  in  her  behalf,  and.  as  he  grew  a  little  mellow,  he 


118 


THE  CONTRAST. 


did  so,  but  in  an  honorable  way,  after  a  few  sharp  rebukes 
from  the  others.  As  she  could  not  talk  our  language,  he 
interpreted  for  her ;  but  the  others  were  careful  to  watch 
all  he  said.  I  was  spared  their  annoyance,  by  telling  them 
I  had  chosen  Mary,  and  should  give  her  all  I  had  to  bestow. 
Sir  Richard  seemed  offended  at  this,  for  a  moment,  and 
asked  her  something,  the  meaning  of  which  I  did  not  com- 
prehend. 

I  know  not  what  the  morals  of  these  people  are,  but  I 
saw  nothing  aside  from  the  strictest  propriety  in  all  their 
conduct.  They  seem  to  be  simple,  confiding,  and,  what 
is  not  common  in  Irish  character,  unsuspicious  of  others. 
On  our  way  down.  I  had  along  conversation  with  Mary  and 
her  cousin,  whose  brother  has  been  three  years  in  Boston. 
I  was  surprised  at  their  general  good  sense,  at  the  modesty 
of  their  manners,  and  the  apparent  purity  and  excellence 
of  their  sentiments.  They  expressed  strong  emotions,  and 
an  active  sensitiveness  when  speaking  of  their  miserable 
condition  and  dark  prospects ;  and  kindled  with  the  liveliest 
enthusiasm  when  they  spake  of  going  to  America. 

I  painted  the  highest  scenes  of  domestic  enjoyment 
among  the  peasantry  of  our  country,  to  see  what  effect  it 
would  have  on  them — spoke  of  our  common  schools,  which 
are  free  to  all ;  the  opportunities  to  the  virtuous  and  indus- 
trious for  becoming  wise  and  happy  ;  of  the  entire  absence 
of  grades  on  account  of  birth  and  wealth  ;  of  the  intermar- 
riages between  rich  and  poor,  and  the  many  excellences  of 
our  social  polity.  They  listenend  with  the  profoundest  at- 
tention, and  I  marked  their  thoughts  and  feelings  as  clearly 
expressed  in  their  countenances,  when  allusion  was  made  to 
the  forlorn  condition  of  their  countrv,  the  ignorance,  vice,  and 
misery  which  many  of  them  carried  to  our  country.  They 
seemed  to  feel  deeply  chagrined  when  speaking  of  their  lot 
and  sought  no  justification,  but  wept  when  they  saw  the  in- 
surmountable obstacles  which  kept  them  where  they  were. 

To  try  the  strength  of  their  affections  I  asked  them,  as  I 
had  done  before,  if  they  would  like  to  go  to  America.  The 


FILIAL  LOVE. 


119 


cousin  answered  without  hesitation,  that  she  should,  and  as 
soon  as  her  brother  sent  her  money  enough,  she  should  go 
there.    Mary  sighed  and  said  : 

"  Most  sure,  yer  honor ;  barrin  I  could'nt  lave  my  poor 
mither  and  the  childers  behint  me,"  and  she  wept  bitterly. 

"  Chare  up,  Mary  dear,"  said  the  cousin.  "  The  good 
Lard  may  provide  the  way  for  ye  to  goo  there  yit.  Ye  do 
be  makin'  yerself  a  silly  crayture  before  the  kind  gintilmin." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  I ;  "  such  a  mark  of  filial  affection  be- 
comes a  good  heart.  I  esteem  Mary  more  highly  for  this 
proof  of  her  love  to  her  mother,  for  no  being  on  earth 
so  much  deserves  her  gratitude  and  watchful  care  as  her 
mother  in  decline  or  distress.  I  am  glad  to  know  that 
poverty  and  suffering  have  not  sundered  the  tender  cords 
which  bind  human  hearts  in  the  holiest  responsibilities. 
The  cup  of  misery  can  be  sweetened  only  by  a  faithful  love, 
and  an  unwavering  devotion  to  each  other's  welfare.  It 
wrould  be  cruel  for  Mary  to  forsake  her  aged  mother,  when 
she  has  no  other  means  of  support,  but  her  labor." 

The  last  remark  renewed  all  the  bitterness  of  her  grief, 
from  which  she  had  partly  recovered  by  what  preceded,  and 
I  turned  the  conversation  by  expressing  the  hope  that  better 
days  awaited  them,  that  they  would  have  more  abundant 
crops,  and  that  a  growing  sense  of  justice  and  human- 
ity would  relieve  them  from  the  monstrous  burdens  by 
which  they  were  so  crushed  to  earth.  This  seemed  to  cheer 
her  up,  but  when  her  cousin  gayly  added  ;  "  Ayeh,  an  ye'll 
goo  till  Amiriky,  an  yer  mither  an  the  childers  wi'  ye,  and 
there  ye'll  see  these  kind  gintilmin,  an'  suffer  no  moore." 
All  her  grief  was  renewed  again  ;  and  she  tried  to  answer 
by  describing  the  hopelessness  of  their  condition,  and  the 
utter  impossibility  of  so  desirable  an  event. 

I  never  felt  my  heart  so  pained  before.  I  never  so  de- 
voutly coveted  wealth  as  then.  What  a  grand  scheme 
dashed  through  my  brain,  as  I  transported  these  millions  of 
poor  creatures  from  this  beautiful  but  doomed  land,  and  set- 
tled them  on  the  vast  prairies  of  our  western  country,  with 


120 


A   MOUNTAIN  RIDE. 


farms  and  schools,  and  churches,  and  men  to  teach  them  all 
branches  of  industry,  all  the  arts  of  domestic  enjoyment, 
and  the  brighter  hopes  of  a  more  Catholic  faith  than  Rome 
or  England  ever  taught  them.  My  head  twirled  at  the  sud- 
denness and  vastness  of  the  scheme,  and  I  was  wrapt  in  a 
sort  of  Swedenborgian  ecstasy,  till  aroused  by  the  sight  of 
my  companions  who  were  cantering  their  ponies  over  the 
plain  at  the  foot  of  the  principal  descent,  followed  by  the 
men  and  boys  who  had  ascended  to  hold  our  horses,  and 
beg  from  us  what  they  could. 

I  told  the  girls  1  must  hasten  forward  and  overtake  them, 
as  we  were  to  go  over  the  lakes  immediately  after  a  lunch. 
They  wished  to  know  if  they  should  go  round  to  the  other 
side  to  meet  us  when  we  landed  there,  or  whether  we  de- 
signed going  to  the  gap  of  Dunloe  and  the  Reeks,  the 
next  day.  I  told  them  that  to-morrow  was  Sunday,  and 
asked  them  if  they  would  go  on  that  day.  They  said  they 
would  go  to  early  mass,  and  be  back  in  season  to  accom- 
pany us  on  that  excursion.  I  told  them  we  should  not  go, 
as  it  was  the  custom  in  our  country  to  observe  the  Sabbath, 
though  we  sometimes  traveled  short  distances  on  Sunda}^, 
when  it  could  not  be  well  avoided. 

By  this  time  we  had  reached  the  foot  of  the  principal 
mountain.  I  gave  Mary  a  shilling,  and  her  cousin  and 
brother,  who  had  just  met  us,  a  sixpence  each,  for  which 
they  expressed  the  sincerest  gratitude,  spoke  some  words 
of  encouragement,  bade  them  adieu,  and  hastened  on  to 
overtake  my  comrades. 

Several  women  had  come  out  from  the  hovels  and  stood 
beside  the  road,  some,  with  stockings  to  sell,  others  with  a 
cup  of  milk,  one  with  a  deformed  child  which  she  held  up 
to  excite  pity  and  secure  a  gift ;  two  or  three  were  tending 
the  gate  which  divided  the  two  estates,  and  all  looked  rag- 
ged, wretched,  and  half  starved. 

On  reaching  the  hotel  we  found  all  the  men  and  boys  in 
waiting,  to  receive  something  for  having  accompanied  us 
to  the  mountain.    We  paid  the  stipulated  price  for  the 


THE   SCENE  CHANGES. 


121 


ponies,  including  Sir  Richard's,  but  a  demand  was  made  for 
more  for  catching,  saddling  and  bridling  them.  We  divest- 
ed ourselves  of  these  starved  leeches  as  best  we  could,  but 
not  to  their  entire  satisfaction  ;  partook  of  a  hasty  lunch  and 
started  for  the  lakes.  The  hotel  keeper  has  boats  and  oars- 
men always  in  readiness,  and  under  very  excellent  regula- 
tion. 

THE  LAKES. 

Sir  Richard  took  the  helm  and  directed  the  expedition, 
pointing  out  all  the  objects  of  curiosity,  relating  interesting 
legends,  and  describing  incidents  which  had  occurred  at 
different  times  and  places.  We  passed  from  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Flesk  over  a  part  of  the  lower  lake,  called  Lough 
Laune,  around  the  peninsula  of  Muckruss  into  the  middle,  or 
Turk  Lake.  A  narrow  strait,  over  which  a  bridge  has  been 
erected,  connects  the  lakes,  which  are  nearly  on  a  level. 

On  our  way  we  were  shown  O'Donoghue's  horse,  which 
he  rode  when  the  devil  chased  him  down  from  Mangerton, 
after  a  spree  at  the  Punch  Bowl.  The  likeness  is  composed 
of  a  large  soft  rock,  so  fractured  and  worn  away  by  the  mo- 
tion of  the  water  that,  from  a  certain  position,  it  very  much 
resembles  a  horse  standing  up  to  his  knees  in  the  water  in  a 
drinking  posture. 

We  were  assured,  by  undoubted  authority,  that  many  of 
the  inhabitants  have,  time  out  of  mind,  believed,  as  they 
still  do,  that  this  image  was  actually  transformed  from  a 
living  horse,  by  demoniac  agency,  in  retaliation  for  some 
wrong,  real  or  fancied,  received  from  the  O'Donoghue  dv- 
nasty,  which,  in  olden  time,  swayed  a  kingly  sceptre  over 
this  region.  These  O'Donoghues  erected  Ross  castle,  and, 
in  the  days  of  feudalism,  lived  in  great  splendor  ;  but  pos- 
sessing a  large  share  of  patriotism,  they  did  not  submit  wil- 
lingly to  English  rule ;  for  however  often  beaten,  they  were 
among  the  foremost  to  rebel,  till  Ludlow,  by  order  of 
Cromwell.,  destroyed  their  castle;  confiscated  their  lands, 

1 1 


122 


LEGENDS. 


and  drove  the  family  into  the  mountains.  There,  in  the 
deep  and  romantic  "  Glen  Flesk,"  they  built  and  fortified 
another  castle,  which,  for  a  long  time,  kept  up  a  show  of 
Baronial  magnificence,  the  ruins  of  which  still  bear  the 
family  name. 

Passing  to  the  southern  shore,  in  order  to  enter  the  mid- 
dle lake,  our  boatmen  favored  us  with  some  fine  echoes 
from  a  cave  in  Purple  mountain.  By  peculiar  intonations 
of  voice,  they  could  produce  a  very  musical  effect,  and 
bring  back  responses  to  their  questions.  This  was  done  in 
their  native  dialect,  which  Sir  Richard  interpreted  to  us. 
They  also  sang  us  Celtic  songs  ;  the  wildness  of  the  music 
corresponding  well  with  the  lofty  scenery  around  us. 
Some  of  their  airs  were  peculiarly  soft  and  pleasant.  But 
their  heavier  songs  partook  of  what  Irish  spirit  was  in  more 
chivalric  days.  These  songs  and  ballads  form  almost  the 
only  link  which  connects  the  present  with  former  genera- 
tions, and  forcibly  awaken  the  lower  classes  to  a  sense  of 
their  present  degradation.  They  boast  of  their  great  an- 
cestors ;  of  their  deeds  of  heroic  valor ;  of  their  bloody 
triumphs  or  glorious  deaths,  much  in  the  strain  of  the  war- 
speeches  of  our  Indian  tribes ;  and,  like  them,  are  degene- 
rate specimens  of  what  they  boast  of. 

The  entrance  into  the  upper  lake  is  by  a  narrow  and  rapid 
channel.  The  scenery  constantly  changes  as  we  pass  from 
point  to  point  across  the  little  bays,  coves,  sinuosities,  and 
by  the  miniature  capes  and  promontories.  Dark  clouds 
enveloped  the  Toomies  and  Minister's  Back,  the  crowning 
peaks  of  Purple  mountain.  Mangerton  had  drawn  a  thick 
veil  over  his  face  soon  after  we  left  it.  Occasional  dashes 
of  rain  had  fallen,  to  our  great  discomfort.  But  we  kept 
on,  as  the  solemn  grandeur  deepened  at  every  step,  and  was 
much  heightened  by  this  appearance  of  the  heavens,  as  re- 
flected on  the  bosom  of  the  lake. 

W e  landed  on  Dinas  Island,  to  see  the  cottage  of  Mr.  Her- 
bert, and  some  large  Arbutus  trees,  which  are  preserved  with 
great  care  for  the  value  of  the  wood,  which  is  wrought  info 


RURAL  BEAUTY. 


123 


various  kinds  of  light,  fancy  articles,  that  are  kept  for 
sale  in  the  town,  as  rarities  peculiar  to  this  region.  It  is  a 
rare  species  of  indigenous  wood,  and  possesses  a  beauty 
little  inferior  to  mahogany.  It  does  not  grow  in  abundance, 
and  hence  the  great  value  set  upon  it.  The  trees  are  not 
large ;  at  least,  we  saw  none  of  more  than  twelve  inches  in 
diameter  and  twenty  feet  in  height,  and  these  were  pointed 
out  to  us  as  the  best  specimens  in  the  neighborhood. 

From  Dinas  we  went  to  Glena  Island,  and  visited  the  ro- 
mantic cottage  of  Lady  Kenmare,  and  the  grounds  about 
it,  which  are  laid  out  with  much  taste,  and  ornamented 
with  a  great  variety  of  trees  and  shrubs,  among  which  some 
curious  specimens  of  bald,  double,  and  silver-leafed  hollies 
were  shown  us.  A  woman  was  in  attendance,  to  show  us 
about  the  premises  and  receive  a  shilling. 

Near  the  cottage  is  a  banqueting  hall,  where  parties  are 
provided  with  whatever  refreshments  they  please,  by  giv- 
ing orders  beforehand.  It  is  a  place  for  the  display  of  high 
life  by  those  who  come  to  visit  the  lakes,  spend  their  mo- 
ney, and  make  a  show  of  liberality.  We  were  invited  to 
leave  our  orders  for  a  dinner  next  day,  with  the  promise 
that  every  thing  should  be  served  to  our  entire  satisfaction. 
We  had  no  pretensions  to  the  character  which  displays  it- 
self in  such  a  manner,  and  under  such  circumstances.  Our 
republicanism  could  find  more  suitable  opportunities  to  ex- 
ercise its  functions.  So  much  misery  about  us  would  give  a 
poor  relish  to  a  luxurious  feast,  and  we  forbore  our  assent. 

Every  thing  about  the  little  island  is  fitted  up  in  a  neat 
and  tasteful  manner.  The  elegant  furniture  is  standing  in 
the  cottage,  though  rarely  used,  never  over  a  few  days  in 
the  year,  as  the  "  noble  (?)  proprietor"  is  among  the  ab- 
sentees— in  London,  or  on  the  Continent.  Every  thing 
wears  the  appearance  of  rural  elegance,  and,  with  a  good 
conscience,  few  cares,  and  general  prosperity  around,  one 
might  be  very  happy  there.  But  a  man's  life  consisteth 
not  in  the  abundance  which  he  possesseth.  This  is  not  the 
spot  where  I  should  look  for  genuine  happiness. 


124 


INN1SFALLEN. 


Returning  from  the  view  of  the  sublime  scenery  pre- 
sented at  this  point,  we  passed  into  the  lower  lake,  and 
crossed  over  to  the  famous  island  of  Innisfallen.  This  lake, 
which  is  the  largest  of  the  three,  may  be  four  or  five  miles 
long,  and  half  that  in  width.  The  island  contains  fifteen 
or  twenty  acres.  It  is  fringed  with  sparse  trees  and  brush. 
A  grass-grown  walk  extends  around  it,  and  across  it.  in  seve- 
ral directions.  Upon  one  side  is  a  plain  banqueting-hall.  little 
used,  I  should  judge,  by  the  appearance  of  the  grass  around 
it.  It  is  constructed  from  the  oratory  formerly  attached  to 
the  ancient  abbey,  which  is  now  all  in  ruins,  the  Norman 
arches  of  which  attest  the  date  of  its  erection.  This  is  the 
place  where  the  "  Annals  of  Innisfallen"  were  composed, 
of  which  a  native  writer  says  :  "  The  Annals,  written  and 
preserved  in  the  Abbey,  are  amongst  the  most  prized  of 
our  early  historical  materials  ;  several  copies  are  still  ex- 
tant ;  the  original,  the  first  portion  of  which  is  written 
over  six  hundred,  and  the  continuation  over  five  hundred 
years,  is  now  preserved  in  the  Bodleian  Library.  It 
consists  of  extracts  from  the  Old  Testament :  and  a  com- 
pendium of  universal  history,  much  mutilated,  down  to  the 
arrival  of  Saint  Patrick,  in  432.  Thence  forward  to  the 
end,  it  treats  of  the  affairs  of  Ireland,  finishing  at  1319." 
"  From  this  situation,"  says  another  writer,  "  variety, 
beauty  of  surface,  its  forest  glades,  magnificent  single  trees, 
and  thickets  of  shrubs,  this  island  is,  perhaps,  the  most  in- 
teresting of  the  numerous  objects  which  this  region  of 
wonder  and  beauty  affords — it  is  the  most  delightful  of 
islands,  and,  like  Ross,  forms  an  adjunct  to  the  additional 
demesne  of  the  noble  proprietor." 

Sir  Richard  conducted  us  to  all  parts  of  the  Island,  show- 
ing us  the  "  Bed  of  Honor,"  the  legend  of  which  he  related 
to  us,  with  many  a  sage  comment  and  shrewd  wink  of  the 
eye,  to  express  more  than  he  ventured  to  tell  us.  On  the 
shore,  opposite,  he  pointed  out  the  cottage  of  the  beautiful 
Kate  Kearney,  so  famed  in  ballad.  He  took  us  to  a  mag- 
nificent holly  tree,  growing  over  some  sort  of  masonry — a 


ROSS  ISLAND. 


125 


tomb,  perhaps — the  trunk  of  which  is  twenty-two  feet  in 
circumference,  though  not  more  than  a  dozen  high,  before 
it  divides  into  innumerable  branches.  We  also  saw  an  ash, 
of  nearly  equal  size.  What  tales  could  these  old  trees  tell 
of  the  scenes  enacted  about  them,  many  long  centuries 
ago  They  have  been  the  witnesses  of  vast  changes ! 
They  have  seen  the  feudal  lord,  the  virtual  king,  rear  his 
proud  castles  close  by,  throw  down  the  altars  of  the  wild 
heathen,  and  command  the  Christian  devotee  to  bend  as 
blindly  at  his  devotions  before  the  dictatorial  priest,  as  ever 
the  heathen  did.  They  have  heard  the  loud  chant  of  the 
choral  service  go  up  in  the  chapel  of  the  old  monastery, 
now  in  ruins,  and  grow  faint  while  the  mitred  bishop  led 
out  a  long  train  of  robed  priests,  cowled  monks,  and  hooded 
nuns,  in  solemn  procession,  on  some  fete  day  of  the  church. 
They  have  listened  to  the  secret  plans,  and  whispered  sus- 
picions and  jealousies  of  aspiring  and  crafty  Jesuits,  and  to 
the  sharp  rebukes  and  whining  confessions  of  poor,  deluded, 
half-crazed,  and  silly  men  and  women,  who  told  to  arrogant 
and  meddlesome  priests,  thoughts  and  feelings  which  be- 
longed to  God  and  themselves  alone.  What  fearful  records 
have  been  made  against  the  assumptions  and  abuse  of 
power  in  God's  name !  Keep  silence,  ye  witnesses  of  the 
past,  I  do  beseech  you,  lest  the  present  generation  be  made 
more  vile  by  a  knowledge  of  the  intrigues  and  pious  chi- 
canery of  wickeder  times. 

Next,  we  crossed  over  to  Ross  Island,  passing  round  the 
rocky  point  which  juts  into  the  lake  a  long  distance,  the 
edges  of  which  are  chafed  out  into  a  thousand  fantastic 
forms.  Near  the  spot  where  we  landed,  extensive  mining 
operations  were  formerly  carried  on,  with  some  success. 
We  landed  on  a  small  pier  and  dismissed  our  boatmen, 
who  returned  with  our  English  companions — who  feared 
the  sprinkling  rain.  We  loitered  through  the  charming 
and  romantic  grounds  of  the  Earl  of  Kenmare. 

The  whole  island,  of  about  one  hundred  acres,  is  laid  out 
into  walks  and  drives,  bordered  with  all  sorts  of  flowers 

11* 


126 


ROSS  CASTLE. 


and  shrubbery,  and  shaded  by  a  great  variety  of  native  and 
exotic  trees.  Every  thing  is  kept  in  the  most  perfect  or- 
der, and  displays  a  degree  of  taste  and  extravagance  I  never 
witnessed  before.  The  surface  of  the  land  and  the  shore 
arc  beautifully  diversified  by  nature,  and  then  the  hand  of 
art  has  spared  no  pains  to  adorn  them  in  the  most  elegant 
manner.  In  the  bottom  of  a  dell  is  a  low  vine  cottage, 
completely  covered,  sides,  roofs,  columns,  every  part  of  it, 
with  a  verdure  which,  at  this  season,  appears  remark- 
ablv  beautiful.  Tall  forest  trees  overhang  the  rear  and 
sides,  and  a  most  delightful  flower-garden  stretches  out 
in  front,  ornamented  with  every  variety  of  vine,  shrub,  and 
flower,  trained  in  the  most  singular  and  fantastic  forms, 
with  moss  and  shell  statuary,  and  other  ornaments  inter- 
spersed. Then  an  apparently  natural  forest  of  trees  and 
underbrush,  in  wild  profusion,  from  the  midst  of  which,  on 
a  gentle  eminence,  rises  the  gray,  ivy-clad  ruin  of  Ross 
castle,  the  ancient  home  of  the  renowned  O'Donoghues. 

It  is  a  famous  pile,  and  betokens  something  of  its  former 
splendor  and  magnificence.  On  the  side  we  approached  it, 
stands  the  main  tower,  the  keep,  or  dwelling  part  extending 
out  a  hundred  feet  or  more  on  the  opposite  side.  The  sides 
were  covered  with  a  matting  of  thick  ivy,  of  different 
kinds,  as  I  judged  from  the  color  and  shape  of  the  leaves. 
This  covering  reaches  to  the  top  of  ihe  walls.  It  has  been 
recently  trimmed  awav  from  the  windows,  so  as  to  show 
the  building  to  better  advantage.  The  roof  and  floors  are 
all  fallen,  but  the  walls  and  chimneys  are  in  tolerable  pre- 
servation. A  small  lawn  opens  down  towards  the  lake,  on 
the  south-west,  where  is  the  principal  boat-landing,  or 
"  port,"  as  our  conductress  called  it. 

A  middle-aged  woman  came  at  our  signal,  from  the 
lodge  in  the  rear,  and  unlocked  the  gate,  an  old  rickety 
door  which  opened  into  the  main  tower.  We  commenced 
at  once,  the  ascent,  by  a  narrow,  winding  stairway.  The 
stone  steps  are  greatly  worn — more,  doubtless,  by  modern 
than  by  ancient  feet.    The  world  is  more  anxious  to  look 


A  CHANGE. 


127 


and  reflect  upon  the  Past,  or  stare  at  the  Future,  than  to 
improve  the  Present.  Round  and  round,  up  and  up,  by 
narrow  windows,  and  door- ways  opening  to  the  large  rooms 
in  the  main  tower,  situated  one  above  another,  till  at  last  we 
reach  the  top,  which  was  thickly  grassed  over,  and  shrubs  and 
a  yew  tree  were  growing  above  all.  Here  we  had  a  grand 
view  of  what  I  have  described  before,  except  the  summits 
of  the  reeks,  which  were  shrouded  in  misty  darkness.  We 
looked  down  into  the  close,  above  the  top  of  which  we 
stood,  more  than  fifty  feet,  and,  as  the  large  banqueting 
hall,  all  naked  and  floorless,  was  pointed  out,  I  thought  of 
the  splendid  feasts  and  late  carousals  of  Irish  noblemen, 
once  held  there  ;  of  the  secret  plottings  and  diabolical 
deeds  concocted  there  ;  of  the  noise,  and  mirth,  and  revelry 
which  echoed  the  life  and  feeling  of  proud  and  joyous 
hearts ;  of  the  story  and  the  song,  which  told  of  heroic  ex- 
ploits of  warriors  and  huntsmen  ;  of  love  and  rivalry ;  of 
beauty  and  blandishments ;  of  timorous  devotion,  daring 
courage,  and  broken  vows. 

Alas !  what  change !  Now  all  is  silent  as  the  hall  of 
death.  The  ivy  climbs  stealthily  up,  like  the  wily  serpent, 
and  plants  its  fangs  in  every  crevice  of  the  walls.  The  bat 
and  the  lizard  make  an  undisturbed  home  where  splendor 
rioted,  and  the  crawing  rook  flies  dolefully  about,  as  if  be- 
moaning the  desolation  of  the  place.  Who  can  stand  here 
and  not  feel  dizzy  in  bewilderment  at  the  vast  changes  time 
has  wrought  ?  Who  can  avoid  the  strange  emotions  of 
mingled  pity  and  admiration,  of  regret  and  thankfulness,  at 
the  strong  contrast  before  him  ?  Under  us  is  ruin,  around 
us  splendor,  mixed  with  the  confused  noise  of  oppression 
and  beggary,  pleading  vainly  at  the  door  of  liberty  and  af- 
fluence ;  and  pride,  boasting  of  the  greatness  and  glory  of 
British  authority,  justice,  and  benevolence!  But,  thank 
God,  over  us  are  the  deep  blue  heavens  which  encircle  the 
globe  ;  out  from  which  comes  a  voice  which  bids  us  look 
upward,  and  gaze  at  the  Infinite,  the  Good,  and  the  Just. 
And  we  find  in  our  hearts  a  germ  of  faith  which  looks  over 


128 


A   BANKRUPT  LORD. 


the  mutations  of  earth,  the  wrongs  and  insults  suffered  here, 
to  the  clear,  the  beautiful,  and  divine ;  where  no  cry  is 
heard ;  no  tear  is  shed  ;  not  a  sigh  escapes ;  but  love  and 
liberty,  the  boon  of  all  the  redeemed,  and  a  song  of  praise 
is  warbled  from  tongues  immortal,  to  the  honor  and  glory 
of  God  alone. 

Another  shilling,  and  we  started  for  the  town  on  foot. 
An  excellent  road  conducts  through  a  continuous  plantation 
of  fine  large  trees  and  over  a  long  causeway  and  bridge  to 
the  main  land,  beside  which  are  constructed  walks  for 
pedestrians.  Near  the  town  stands  the  plain  old  mansion 
of  Lord  Kenmare,  the  bankrupt  proprietor  of  an  immense 
tract  of  land,  divided  into  pleasure  grounds,  deer  parks, 
hunting  forests,  pasture,  meadow  and  tillage  lands,  tenanted 
by  ten  thousand  hard-working,  miserably  clad,  and  worse- 
fed  human  beings.  By  the  sweat  and  blood  of  these  op- 
pressed and  depressed  people,  the  proprietor  and  his  Shylock 
agents  and  underwriters,  are  enabled  to  live  at  their  ease  in 
London,  Paris,  Italy,  Switzerland  ;  any  where  except  in 
Ireland  where  they  belong,  and  whence  they  draw  the  nutri- 
ment for  their  extravagance,  and  where,  of  right,  it  should 
be  distributed  again. 

Every  thing  about  the  mansion  appears  comfortable  and 
genteel,  though  ancient.  Lady  Kenmare,  whose  name  is 
always  spoken  in  connexion  with  the  ownership  and  man- 
agement of  every  thing,  seems  to  rule  in  queenly  dignity. 
She  is  much  more  respected  than  his  Lordship,  and  comes 
oftener  to  look  at  the  vast  demesnes,  and  see  that  the  build- 
ings, gardens,  walks,  and  hedges  are  kept  in  order.  By  the 
extravagance  and  profligacy  of  his  youth,  the  whole  property 
was  heavily  encumbered  years  ago ;  but,  by  the  laws  of 
England,  no  part  of  it  can  be  touched  by  his  creditors,  ex- 
cept the  income.  This  they  have  taken  under  their  super- 
vision and  allow  the  "  nobis  proprietor"  a  fixed  amount, 
—some  £7,000  or  £8000  (835,000  or  #40,000)  a-year,  to 
enable  him  to  maintain  the  dignity  of  his  position  as  a  "  no- 
ble Peer  of  the  Realm." 


ENTAIL  AND  PRIMOGENITURE. 


129 


Such  is  the  rottenness  and  injustice  of  the  English  sys- 
tem of  government,  that  the  real  estate  of  a  nobleman  can 
not  be  enfeoffed  under  any  circumstance  whatever  by  the  act 
of  a  creditor.  He  may  be  a  miserable,  worthless  scoundrel, 
indebted  to  any  amount,  but  so  long  as  he  lives  there  is 
his  title  and  property  which  none  but  the  crown  may  touch ; 
and  when  he  dies  it  goes  to  his  oldest  male  heir,  who  may 
be,  if  possible,  more  involved  and  abandoned  than  himself ; 
and  there  it  remains  secure  for  the  next  generation. 

We  wonder  at  this  state  of  things,  unused  as  we  are  to 
see  such  wrong  and  injustice  in  our  Republic,  where  the 
feudal  claims  of  entail  and  primogeniture  are  denied,  and 
a  perfect  equality  secured  to  all.  But  we  should  remember 
that  the  safety  of  the  British  government  rests  upon  this 
provision. 

At  the  time  of  the  conquest,  the  country  was  divided  into 
immense  estates,  and  given  to  the  most  devoted  s}rcophants, 
who  were  thus  constituted  the  aristocricy — who  were  invest- 
ed with  the  right  to  govern  the  nation.  The  possession  of 
the  land  was  entailed,  and  made  hereditary  in  the  oldest  male 
heir.  The  younger  members  of  the  family  were  left  to  shirk 
for  themselves.  This  condition  of  things  exists  under 
the  boasted  Constitution  of  England,  and  operates  every 
year  worse  and  worse,  as  the  increasing  poverty  and  misery 
of  the  people  shows.  Enterprise  is  paralyzed  by  it,  and  in- 
dustry starves.  Any  change,  though  loudly  demanded,  is 
feared,  as  destructive  to  the  hereditary  nobility  of  the  na- 
tion ;  for  if  creditors  could  secure  the  payment  of  their 
debts  by  the  partition  and  sale  of  these  estates,  or  should 
they  be  divided  among  the  different  members  of  the  family, 
the  title  must  soon  be  lost.  Nearly  every  nobleman  has  so 
covered  his  property  with  encumbrances  that,  was  justice 
done,  he  could  not  retain  a  claim  to  the  wretched  hovel  of 
his  poorest  tenant.  The  nobility,  the  exchequer,  and,  for 
aught  I  know,  the  royalty  itself,  are  so  deplorably  bankrupt 
that  the  demands  of  justice  can  never  be  met ;  yet  the  force 
of  habit,  the  terrors  of  the  government,  and  various  expe- 


130 


THE   VILLAGE   OF   KILL  ARN  E  V. 


clients  of  cunning  men,  continue  to  cheat  justice  of  her 
claims,  and  the  honest  people  of  their  rights,  and  keep  the 
masses  in  a  condition  of  most  abject  vassalage  and  suffering. 
But  all  this  only  serves  to  procrastinate  and  make  more  ter- 
rible the  certain  and  fearful  retribution  which  shall  over- 
whelm this  country,  sooner  or  later. 

A  crowd  of  wretched  creatures  were  about  the  streets, 
greater  than  we  saw  on  our  arrival.  It  was  Saturday,  and 
had  been  market-day.  Some  carts,  with  asses  harnessed 
to  them,  were  standing  about,  or  passing  out  of  the  place. 
We  perambulated  the  two  principal  streets,  observing,  as 
closely  as  we  could,  the  condition  of  the  people,  the  style 
of  their  houses,  and  their  manner  of  Hving.  The  result  was 
painful  in  the  extreme.  Such  dens  of  misery  as  we  saw  in 
some  places  are  only  equaled  by  the  lowest  grades  of  the 
same  miserable  race  who  burrow  in  the  filthy  purlieus  of 
our  cities,  and  beg  from  door  to  door.  We  were  beset 
by  scores  of  deformed,  starved,  lame  and  trembling  skele- 
tons, half  covered  by  patched  and  tattered  garments,  who 
muttered,  in  under  tones,  undistinguishable  words,  as  they 
held  out  their  thin  hands,  and  followed  after  us  from  place 
to  place.  We  were  glad  to  make  our  retreat  as  best  we 
could,  and  so  took  shelter  in  the  shop  of  the  woman  who 
had  offered  us  her  wares  of  Killarney  manufacture.  But 
we  did  not  escape  by  this  manoeuver,  for,  while  purchasing 
a  few  articles,  they  swarmed  around  us  despite  the  em- 
phatic demonstrations  of  the  shop-keeper,  nor  did  we  finally 
shake  them  off  till  we  left  the  town  on  our  return  to  Clog- 
hereen.  We  purchased  a  few  trifles,  which  were  duly  let- 
tered in  silver,  "  Killarney  Lakes,"  with  the  names  we  had 
prescribed,  and  forwarded  to  our  hotel,  a  distance  of  two 
miles. 

The  rival  saleswoman  who  had  also  called  on  us,  hailed 
us  as  we  passed  her  shop,  and  we  could  not  refuse  to  go  in 
and  look  at  her  wares.  With  Irish  earnestness  she  reproved 
us  for  not  giving  her  the  preference,  because  her  articles 
were  so  much  better     We  plead  our  inability  to  carry  any 


LUXURY   AND  STARVATION. 


131 


thing.  Her  husband  offered  to  forward  us  whatever  we 
might  order,  to  any  amount,  and  free  of  expense,  to  Liver- 
pool or  New  York,  and  wait  for  his  pay  till  we  could  return 
it.  So  much  for  confidence  in  "  American  Securities." 
The  other  trader  had  proposed  the  same  before.  Verily, 
we  thought,  the  Irish  are  not  the  most  suspicious  people  on 
earth,  after  all,  if  they  will  trust  strangers  and  foreigners 
in  this  way.    We  purchased  a  few  trinkets  and  passed  on. 

The  variety  and  quality  of  the  dishes  served  for  our  late 
dinner,  of  which  we  partook  in  company  with  our  English 
companions,  betokened  any  thing  but  the  leanness  and  pov- 
erty of  the  land.  Every  thing  was  excellent,  and  served  in 
good  style.  I  mention  this  fact  to  show  that  there  are  com- 
forts— luxuries  even — to  be  found  in  the  midst  of  the  misery 
and  starvation  of  which  I  have  spoken.  The  higher  class 
live  in  great  splendor.  Not  many  landlords  lost  their  meals, 
winter  before  last,  while  starvation  carried  off  its  thousands. 
But  I  confess  the  thought  of  the  extreme  wretchedness  we 
had  witnessed  did  not  add  much  to  the  relish  of  our  meal. 
Yet  the  exercise  of  the  day,  and  the  long  time  we  had  passed 
without  eating,  created  an  appetite  too  strong  to  be  mas- 
tered by  sympathy,  and  in  the  weakness  of  poor  human  na- 
ture, we  indulged  a  little  at  the  expense  of  our  principles. 
It  is  easy  to  adopt  theories,  which  we  find  it  difficult  to 
practice.  Feeling  too  often  controls  judgment,  and  rules 
action,  despite  the  dictates  of  reason  and  the  pleadings  of 
benevolence.    Such  is  man ! 


132 


AN   EAIiLY  WALK. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  SUNDAY  IN  IRELAND. 

An  Early  Walk. — A  Grand  Scene. — A  Lonely  Girl. — Character. — Difficul- 
ties.— A  Remedy. — Sir  Richard. — Killarney. — A  Crowd. — The  Church. — 
A  Little  Boy. — Leaving. — Bigotry. — A  Retrospect. — A  Poor  Family. — 
Tralee. — A  Scene  of  Misery. — The  Church. — A  Walk. — The  Chances. 

May  21. — The  exceeding  weariness  of  the  flesh,  the  ex- 
citement of  the  mind,  the  lateness,  quality,  or  quantity  of 
our  seven  o'clock  dinner,  so  troubled  my  slumbers  that  I 
found  little  rest  of  body,  last  night.  So  I  rose  before  the 
sun,  performed  my  "  daily  ablutions,"  and  started  out,  while 
the  rest  were  wrapt  in  unconscious  slumbers.  I  met  multi- 
tudes of  the  peasantry,  going  to  the  town  to  attend  Mass, 
some  of  whom  had  come  six  or  seven  miles,  from  the  moun- 
tain glens,  at  that  early  hour.  Their  personal  appearance 
was  but  little  changed  from  yesterday,  except  the  men  had 
on  clean  linen,  and  most  of  the  women  white  kerchiefs  over 
their  heads. 

I  strolled  off  towards  the  mountains,  on  the  road  to  Ken- 
mare,  passed  the  mansion  of  Mr.  Herbert,  the  Turk  water- 
fall, and  wound  round  Turk  mountain,  close  by  the  shores 
of  the  middle  lake,  through  a  natural  forest  of  firs,  and 
kept  along  near  the  stream  which  issus  from  the  upper  lake. 
The  valley  is  called  Derrycunehey,  from  a  very  romantic  lit- 
tle waterfall  of  that  name.  At  every  step  the  scenery  changed, 
becoming  more  and  more  wild,  secluded,  and  enchanting. 

At  length  the  upper  lake  opened  to  view.  My  progress 
was  arrested  by  the  majesty  and  grandeur  of  the  scene, 
and  I  stood  upon  an  eminence  in  the  road,  and  gazed,  in 
the  most  profound  admiration,  completely  entranced  by  the 
beauty  and  splendor  of  the  view.  Behind,  I  had  a  view 
of  the  lower  and  middle  lakes,  the  islands,  the  tower  of 
Ross  castle,  the  town,  and  fields  beyond.  On  either  side 
arose,  close  by  me,  steep  mountains,  covered  with  ragged 
rocks,  shrubs,  and  herbage.    Before  me,  the  placid  lake,  ex- 


A  SUBLIME  VIEW. 


133 


tending  two  or  three  miles  along  the  narrow  valley,  and  not 
more  than  half  a  mile  wide — in  some  places  but  a  few 
rods.  At  the  head  of  this  valley  opens  the  famous  Gap 
of  Dunloe,  on  the  right,  and  on  the  left,  the  still  more  wild 
and  striking  Commedhuv,  or  Black  Valley.  Beyond  these 
are  McGillicuddy's  Reeks,  the  highest  of  which  is  Carran 
Tual,  whose  proud  summit  was  already  wreathed  with  the 
red  rays  of  the  morning  sun.  The  striking  combinations 
of  lakes  and  mountains,  fields  and  forests,  rocks  and  rills, 
castle  and  cottages,  formed  a  picture  of  mingled  grandeur 
beauty,  and  desolation,  such  as  human  eyes  rarely  look 
upon.  Every  thing  is  unique  and  surprising.  Whatever 
can  delight  the  vision,  and  wing  the  wildest  fancy  for  the 
strange  and  beautiful  in  natural  scenery,  is  here  commingled 
in  close  proximity  and  rich  prolusion.  And  not  merely  the 
profile  of  the  diversified  and  sublime  landscape  pleased  me, 
but  the  varying  hues  and  sounds  of  that  hour  completely 
entranced  me. 

At  the  bottom  of  all  were  the  deep  blue  waters  of  the 
lakes,  studded  with  innumerable  rocky  islets,  tufted  over 
with  grass,  and  their  jagged  banks  fringed  with  the  royal 
fern,  and  taller  shrubs  and  trees ;  the  mirror-surface,  un- 
ruffled by  a  breeze,  reflected  the  shadows  of  the  groves  and 
mountains  ;  then  the  dark  fir- wood,  and  native  forest  trees; 
the  naked  rocks  and  overhanging  cliffs ;  the  purple  heather, 
climbing  up  to  the  top  of  the  highest  reeks,  around  which 
the  sun's  red  rays  were  wrapt  in  a  mantle  of  glory ;  the 
deep,  shadowed  dells  and  mountain  gorges,  down  which 
leaped  the  foaming  rills  in  numerous  cascades ;  the  white 
cabins,  far  out  on  the  plains  among  fields  of  varying  forms 
and  hues  ;  the  gray  old  tower  of  Ross  ;  the  forester's  cot- 
tage, far  up  the  side  of  the  southern  hills,  with  its  white 
pillars,  green  lawn,  scattered  shade  trees,  and  gay  arbors, 
backed  bv  the  receding  hills. 

J  CD 

While  gazing  on  this  scene  the  church-bells  commenced 
their  chimes,  the  sounds  floating  through  the  solemn  still- 
ness of  that  quiet  hour,  far  over  the  plain  and  lakes,  waking 

12 


134 


nature's  temple. 


the  mountain  and  woodland  echoes,  and  dying  away  like 
the  expiring  note  of  the  swan  ;  the  occasional  bleating  of 
the  lambkins,  as  they  sported  along  the  hill-side,  just  over 
the  lake,  and  the  twittering  of  birds  among  the  trees,  all 
combined  to  enrich  a  scene  worthy  of  the  day  which  com- 
memorates  the  triumph  of  mortality  over  the  gloom  and 
sadness  of  the  grave.  Now  broke  forth  the  sound  of  hu- 
man voices,  male  and  female,  growing  more  and  more  dis- 
tinct, till,  around  a  point  just  beyond  me,  they  commenced 
a  wild,  Irish  air,  whose  soft  and  pathetic  melody  echoed 
from  the  finest  chords  of  my  heart,  and  stirred  emotions 
never  experienced  before.  The  wildness,  grandeur}  sweet- 
ness, sublimity,  and  harmony  of  that  scene  surpassed  all  I 
had  ever  conceived  before.  Enhancing  all,  was  the  thought 
that  I  was  alone  and  a  stranger,  on  the  morn  of  God's  holy 
day — my  first  Sabbath  in  a  foreign  land — standing  in  his 
own  temple,  so  bountifully  and  gorgeously  decorated  for  the 
pleasure  and  benefit  of  man.  Fit  was  it,  at  such  an  hour, 
and  amid  such  associations,  to  worship  Him  who  dwells 
not  in  temples  made  with  hands,  but  fills  immensity  with 
His  glorious  presence !  Oh !  the  bliss  of  such  an  hour ! 
No  pen  can  describe  it!  The  undevout  soul  could  not  feel  it ! 

I  stood,  wrapt  in  the  devoutest  contemplation,  till  the 
song  suddenly  ceased,  and  two  stalwart  men,  two  young 
women,  and  a  little  girl  came  round  the  bend  of  the  road 
ne'ar  where  I  was,  two  yearlings  and  a  pig  preceding  them, 
which  they  were  driving  into  the  mountains.  They  were 
rudely  dressed,  but  appeared  jocund  and  happy.  Each  had 
a  budget  in  hand  ;  all  were  barefoot,  and  the  women  had 
no  covering  for  their  heads.  I  walked  on  with  them  some 
distance,  but  they  could  not  speak  a  word  of  English. 
They  turned  off  by  a  foot-path,  near  the  head  of  the  upper 
lake,  and  went  on  towards  Commedhuv.  I  kept  the  road, 
passed  a  miniature  castle  of  recent  erection,  attached  to  the 
estate  of  Lord  Kenmare,  and  ascended  from  the  secluded, 
mountain-locked  valley  of  Derrycunehey,  up  the  southern 
barrier  of  hills,  to  the  Police  station — a  sort  of  civil  fortifi- 


A   SERVANT  GIRL. 


135 


cation — for  all  over  Ireland,  in  country  as  well  as  city,  po- 
licemen are  every  where  to  be  met,  dressed  in  their  sleek, 
close-buttoned  blue  coats,  with  standing  collars,  ornamented 
with  the  number  of  the  station  to  which  they  belong,  and 
high-crowned  felt  hats,  the  tops  covered  with  glazed  leather 
— generally  a  trim,  good-looking,  well-fed,  kind-hearted  set 
of  indolent  fellows,  who  have  no  cares  nor  business  of  their 
own,  and  so  look  after  their  neighbors',  at  the  public 
charge. 

For  several  miles  I  walked  in  company  with  a  young 
woman,  who  had  come  from  Killarney  that  morning,  and 
was  cro'mcr  to  Kenmare  to  visit  her  brother,  whom  she  had  not 
seen  in  three  years,  though  living  within  twenty  miles  of 
each  other.  She  was  dressed  in  the  common  style  of  the 
peasantry — a  dark  calico  frock,  pinned  up,"  to  keep  it 
clear  from  the  road,  a  white  kerchief  over  her  head,  tied 
under  her  chin,  a  small,  coarse  shawl  over  her  shoulders,  a 
bundle  in  hand,  and  no  shoes  on  her  feet.  She  was  modest 
and  bashful,  and  did  not  enter  very  readily  into  conversation. 
But  when  she  learned  that  I  was  from  America  she  became 
more  social,  and  made  many  inquiries  about  different  per- 
sons whom  she  once  knew,  now  living  there.  She  has  the 
most  extravagant  ideas  of  the  wealth  of  our  country,  and 
the  generosity  of  the  people.  Her  brother,  whom  she  was 
going  to  visit,  is  intending  to  go  to  America  next  year.  She 
wished  she  could  go  with  him.  He  had  partly  promised  to 
take  her,  but  she  feared  he  would  not  be  able. 

She  informed  me  that  she  worked  at  service  in  a  family, 
and  received  £2  a  year,  of  which  she  could  not  save 
much  above  her  clothing  ;  and  what  she  did  save  went  to 
help  support  her  parents.  I  asked  her  what  they  would  do 
if  she  left  them.  She  thought  she  could  earn  enough  in 
America  in  a  year  to  send  and  get  them,  for  she  had  heard 
that  servants  had  £10  and  £12,  ($50  or  860,)  a  year. 
When  I  told  her  many  good  girls  received  £15,  and  some 
even  more,  she  was  greatly  delighted,  and  expressed  the 
strongest  wish  to  be  able  to  get  there.    She  said  she  would 


130 


DARK   TROSPECTS   FOR  THE  TOOR. 


not  buy  another  dress,  but  keep  every  penny,  so  as  to  go 
with  her  brother,  if  possible.  She  would  submit  to  any 
amount  of  work,  if  she  could  only  get  from  Ireland  with 
her  parents,  and  live  in  America.  And  she  spoke  of  it 
with  all  the  earnestness  and  confidence  of  one  who  is  going 
from  misfortune  and  adversity  into  circumstances  of  ease 
and  affluence. 

Poor  girl !  I  fear  she  is  doomed  to  disappointment !  The 
land  which,  in  her  young  and  ardent  soul,  she  has  pictured 
so  vividly  with  all  that  heart  can  wish,  or  wealth  and  free- 
dom bestow,  will  be  found,  in  many  respects,  to  come  far 
short  of  her  expectations.  But  she  can  not  suffer  by  the 
change.  She  can  not  be  denied  more  of  the  comforts  of 
life  than  now ;  nor  can  her  prospects  be  half  so  dubious. 
I  gave  her  what  advice  I  thought  needful ;  directing  her  to 
seek  out  a  good  family,  when  arrived  in  America,  prove 
herself  faithful,  try  to  serve  them  in  the  best  manner,  for- 
get the  habits  and  notions  of  the  country  left  behind  her, 
possess  herself  of  what  information  she  could,  and  so  lay 
the  foundation  for  a  useful,  respectable,  and  happy  life.  I 
gave  her  my  address  by  her  request,  which  she  received 
with  many  thanks,  saying  she  should  keep  it,  and  if  I  had 
no  servant  in  my  family  she  should  be  most  happy  to  serve 
me. 

On  my  way  back,  I  could  not  banish  her,  and  those  in 
like  condition,  from  my  thoughts.  Here  are  thousands 
and  millions  of  human  beings — our  Father's  children — my 
brothers  and  sisters — suffering  under  circumstances  the 
most  oppressive  and  intolerable.  A  few  months  ago,  mul- 
titudes perished  of  hunger ;  and  now  not  half  are  properly 
fed  with  the  plainest  food.  They  are  doomed  to  the  most 
abject  servitude  by  the  workings  of  a  system  of  wrong 
from  which  there  is  no  escape,  but  by  expatriating  them- 
selves to  seek  an  asylum  in  a  foreign  country.  Fortunately 
they  have  no  homes,  no  loved  domestic  hearths  to  leave 
behind.  They  hate  their  miserable  cabins,  and  the  lords 
who  oppress  them.    There  is  not  left  a  link  to  attach  them 


IMPROVEMENT   OF  CONDITION. 


137 


to  their  native  shores.  They  flee  like  captives  escaped 
from  cruel  bondage,  cheered  by  the  fancied  prospect  be- 
fore them,  of  comfort  and  competence.  Alas,  that  they 
should  so  soon  awake,  in  the  dark,  dirty  lanes  and  base- 
ments of  our  cities,  to  the  sorest  disappointment ! 

And  yet  it  is  not  all  disappointment  to  them.  They  do 
not  act  and  live  like  our  native  citizens.  They  deny  them- 
selves the  means  of  what  we  call  a  decent  livelihood.  But 
to  them,  compared  with  their  condition  here,  the  change  is 
greatly  in  their  favor.  It  is  to  be  deeply  deplored  that  emi- 
grants are  not  better  qualified  to  enter  on  a  course  of  pro- 
cedure more  certain  of  securing  a  comfortable  living,  and 
making  them  good  citizens.  But  they  are  not,  and  there  is 
little  prospect  they  ever  will  be.  It  is  the  choice  of  evils. 
Shall  they  stay  here  and  starve,  or  go  to  our  land  and  wade 
out  of  their  ignorance  and  misery  ?  They  choose  the  latter, 
and  the  dictates  of  a  common  humanity  should  make  us 
willing  to  receive  them — as  they  are — and  help  them  what 
we  can,  in  the  many  ways  offered  by  the  advantages  of  a 
new  and  growing  country.  Our  free  schools  can  educate 
their  children,  our  canals  and  railroads  give  work  to  their 
working  men ;  our  unsettled  prairies  produces  bread  and 
meat  for  their  mouths,  our  cotton  plantations  and  sheep 
pastures,  clothing  for  their  backs. 

But  they  must  learn  to  help  themselves  and  us.  They 
must  abjure  their  clannishness,  repudiate  their  bigotry,  and 
be  willing  to  conform,  like  good  citizens,  to  the  requisitions 
of  our  free,  liberal,  and  equitable  institutions.  They  can 
not  do  all  this  without  being  taught.  In  vain  is  it  to  blame 
them,  reproach  them,  or  cast  them  off.  How  many  a  poor 
servant  girl  has  pined  in  sadness,  till  completely  discouraged, 
on  account  of  the  harsh  treatment  of  those  wTho  should 
have  taken  some  pains  to  instruct  the  poor  creatures  in  the 
rudiments  of  our  domestic  affairs.  They  have  had  no 
means  of  knowing.  The  first  letters  in  the  alphabet  of  com- 
fortable living  look  strange  and  unfamiliar  to  them,  and  it  is 
too  much  to  expect  they  will  be  able  to  manage  every  thing 

12* 


138 


IRISH  TALENT. 


exactly  to  another's  liking.  How  can  they  cook  our  meats, 
and  make  our  pies  and  puddings  when  they  have  lived  all 
their  days  on  "  praties"  or  oat-meal  stir-a-bout,  and  occa- 
sionally a  little  milk — not  tasting  of  bread  once  a  month, 
nor  meat  twice  a  year  ?  How  can  they  scrub,  sweep,  and 
dust  our  parlors,  when  they  have  always  lived  in  a  single 
room  without  floor  or  furniture  ?  How  can  they  feel  full 
confidence  in  their  new  employers  when  so  long  accus- 
tomed to  oppression,  abuse,  and  contempt  ? 

I  marvel  that  the  Irish  are  able  to  do  so  well  as  they  do. 
They  have  need  to  be  taught ;  and  they  are  not  the  most 
untractable  creatures  on  earth,  when  once  we  have  their 
confidence ;  neither  are  they  all  treachery  and  deceit. 
They  have  many  good  qualities,  which  patience  and  atten- 
tion, mixed  with  .kindness  and  forbearance,  will  bring  out  in 
due  time.  They  are  not  dumb ;  but  have  wit  and  talents, 
which,  under  a  genial  cultivation,  will  elevate  them  many 
degrees  above  what  they  are,  and  rapidly,  in  the  scale  of 
social  and  moral  excellence  and  usefulness,  and  make  them 
respectable  citizens  of  our  great  Republic. 

I  do  not  rate  them  too  high.  I  have  seen  the  depth  of  their 
degradation.  I  know  the  accusations  charged  against  them. 
My  soul  has  been  made  sad,  by  a  knowledge  of  their  true 
characters.  I  have  wept  over  their  low  estate.  But  for 
all  this,  I  believe  the  Irish  may  be  redeemed,  and  elevated. 
From  their  ranks  have  risen  some  of  the  highest  ornaments 
of  the  present  or  past  generations.  Their  orators  have 
swayed  senates,  convinced  juries,  and  moved  multitudes 
equal  to  any  in  the  three  kingdoms.  Their  speeches  abound 
with  as  manv  facts,  as  sound  arguments,  as  brilliant  meta- 
phors,  as  smooth  periods,  as  can  be  found  in  the  language. 
They  have  had  statesmen,  jurists,  generals;  poets,  priests, 
and  patriots ;  artists,  historians,  and  philosophers  who  have 
done  credit  to  humanity.  And  they  have  exhibited  a  spirit 
of  long-suffering  and  patient  endurance  under  oppression 
and  difficulty  which  do  honor  to  the  Christian  name  and 
profession. 


VAIN   ATTEMPTS  AT  REFORM. 


139 


Ignorant,  bigoted,  and  debased  as  they  may  be,  they  are 
not  all  depravity — not  sinners  above  all  people.  They  have 
hearts  which  sometimes  beat  heavily,  throbbing  with  the 
deep  pulsations  of  a  living,  but  crushed  humanity.  They 
often  writhe  in  bitter  agony  under  the  monstrous  burdens 
of  an  inexorable  necessity,  which  has  been  accumulating 
for  centuries,  till  the  last  link  has  been  fastened,  and  the 
chain  of  their  misery  and  infamy  is  complete.  They  have 
no  ability  to  rise  and  redress  their  wrongs  ;  no  means  of 
concentrating  what  power  is  left  them.  They  are  poor, 
degraded  in  their  own  eyes,  and  suspicious  of  one  another. 
They  have  strong  local  feelings,  adhering  to  their  clan  like 
the  wolf  to  her  lair ;  and,  worst  of  all,  their  religious  pre- 
judices will  not  yield  to  the  force  of  argument,  the  plead- 
ings of  humanity,  or  the  voice  of  God,  unless  it  comes  to 
them  by  the  mouth  of  a  priest,  in  a  line  of  direct  succes- 
sion. 

I  pity  them,  but  I  see  no  hope  for  them  ;  not  a  ray  which 
betokens  the  coming  0f  a  better  dav  for  their  nation. 
Great  things  are  reported  of  Repeal  and  Revolution.  But 
it  is  all  in  vain.  Ireland  can  not  be  free.  It  would  not  long' 
remain  so  if  it  was.  The  elements  of  national  existence  « 
and  prosperity  are  not  in  them.  They  wish  well,  but  how 
to  perform  they  know  not.  They  have  indistinct  glimmer- 
ings of  a  better  state,  and  their  O'Briens,  and  O'Connels, 
and  Mitchells,  and  Meaghers,  startle  the  monotonv  of  their 
supineness  and  misery  like  the  jerkings  of  a  galvanized  body. 
They  open  their  eyes  only  to  look  upon  the  ghastliness  of 
their  political,  social,  and  moral  death— to  contemplate  with 
horror  the  festering  corruption  of  the  charnet  they  live  in, 
which  but  for  their  wrongs,  would  be  the  gem  of  earth,  the 
palace  of  the  nations. 

Oh  dark,  mysterious  Providence  !  Thy  ways  are  incom- 
prehensible! A  whole  nation  groans  in  misery,  and  no 
hope  is  left  them  but  in  self-banishment !  They  must  for- 
swear this  beautiful  land  of  their  birth,  which  denies  them 
a  precarious  living,  and  seek  an  asylum  on  another  conti- 


140 


A  GENERAL  REPROACH. 


nent !  Oh,  tyrant  .power !  Are  there  no  limits  to  thy  base- 
ness, no  deed  too  dark  and  damnable  for  thee  to  perpetrate  ? 
Wilt  thou  revel  in  pride  and  luxury  forever,  and  leave  thy 
millions  to  toil  in  ignorance,  corrupt  in  vice,  and  starve  in 
famine  ? 

What  a  spectacle  is  here  !  What  a  burlesque  on  civili- 
zation, freedom,  Christianity — words  familiar  to  English 
ears,  and  most  frequent  in  the  vocabulary  of  her  states- 
men. The  canvas  of  her  navy  is  spread  in  every  harbor; 
her  armies  conquer  in  battle;  the  Indies  tremble  at  the  roar 
of  her  cannon ;  her  exchequer  regulates  the  finances,  her 
merchants  the  commerce,  her  manufactures  the  products,  of 
the  world ;  on  her  "  empire  the  sun  never  sets." 

Such  is  her  boasting ;  and  yet  in  the  same  breath  her 
statesmen  say  she  can  do  nothing  to  prevent  or  relieve  the 
distresses  of  Ireland  ;  to  lighten  her  burdens,  to  recompence 
her  toil,  to  remove  her  ignorance,  or  dispel  her  gloom? 
Shame  on  the  wisdom  and  philanthropy  of  such  a  nation  ! 

But  to  England  belongs  not  this  reproach  alone.  It  falls 
alike  upon  all.  We  feel  it  at  home,  in  our  three  millions 
of  slaves — God's  image  reduced  to  goods  and  chatties,  and 
traded  for  in  the  mart  like  so  many  sheep  !  Horror!  where 
is  thy  dagger?  Nay,  we  see  it  in  our  northern  states,  in  the 
multitudes  cooped  up  in  narrow  garrets,  called  out  by  the 
ring  of  the  bell  to  toil  fourteen  weary  hours  in  heated  rooms ; 
to  live  upon  scanty  fare,  or  pine  away,  when  banks  are  tight 
and  markets  dull,  on  the  very  brink  of  starvation ;  while 
the  sons  and  daughters  of  cotton  lords  grow  up  in  indolent 
luxury,  proud  and  arrogant  in  their  positions. 

But,  thank  the  Lord,  not  there  as  here,  is  there  an  entail- 
ment of  these  evils  by  hereditary  properties,  hedged  about 
with  barriers  which  can  not  be  passed.  With  us  there  is 
a  chance  to  rise,  and  they  who  are  our  workers — our  arti- 
sans and  yeomen,  to-day,  may  be  our  guides  and  rulers  to- 
morrow. Englishmen  laugh  at  this  idea,  but  her  millions 
at  home,  and  in  Ireland  and  Scotland,  weep  in  despair  for 
lack  of  it.    The  monstrous  injustice  of  entail  and  primo- 


RETURN. 


141 


geniture  to  keep  up  rank — the  feudal  claims  oi  the  nobility 
— are  the  direct  and  principal  cause  of  all  the  crime  and 
misery  of  these  masses. 

The  first  reform  that  Ireland  needs  is  the  breaking  up  of 
these  immense  estates,  to  pay  off.  by  the  actual  transfer  of 
landed  property,  the  vast  debts  of  these  bankrupt  landlords. 
All  others  are  vain  and  worthless  without  it.  If  the  poor 
could  not  buy  a  single  acre.,  a  class  of  men  would  do  so  for 
the  investment  in  property  which  could  not  fail  to  yield  a 
handsome  income.  And  their  interest  would  become 
blended  with  the  prosperity  of  their  tenants,  to  some 
extent,  greater  than  now,  and  thus  would  be  found  a 
partial,  but  not  a  radical  cure  of  the  evils  which  have 
fallen  upon  this  people.  Other  reforms  would  follow,  and 
Ireland  would  become  a  united,  prosperous,  and  happy  na- 
tion, the  right  arm  of  England,  and  loyal  to  a  fault. 

Such  were  some  of  the  reflections  which  occupied  my 
thoughts,  as  I  returned  from  the  summit  of  the  hill  com- 
manding an  extensive  view  to  the  south,  over  GlengarilT 
and  Bantry  Bay,  and  from  which  the  road  descends  into  a 
deep  valley  towards  the  village  and  bay  of  Kenmare,  to 
Skibbereen  and  the  rough  promontories  about  Cape  Clear. 
I  had  ample  time  for  many  comments ;  for,  unconscious  of 
the  distance.  I  had  wandered  some  eight  or  ten  miles  from 
our  hotel,  and  now  found  myself  so  wearied,  that  I  was 
obliged  to  sit  down  several  times  upon  a  wayside  rock  to 
rest  my  wearied  limbs. 

The  scene  had  greatly  changed.  The  sun  was  risen 
high,  and,  through  a  thin  mist  which  hung  about  the  reeks, 
the  ravs  were  so  reflected  as  to  produce  a  beautiful  rain- 
bow, which  seemed  to  be  painted  upon  the  dark  side  of 
Purple  mountain,  with  one  foot  resting  in  the  narrow  dell 
of  the  Gap  of  Dunloe.  The  appearance  was  novel  and 
exceedinglv  beautiful.  In  fact,  everv  thing  about  this 
rough  and  secluded  glen  is  wild,  diversified,  and  singularly 
picturesque.  Not  least  among  the  attractions  of  that  hour, 
was  the  death-like  stillness  that  prevailed     The  music  of 


142 


IHll'ARTURE. 


birds  had  ceased  ;-the  bleating  of  lambs  I  heard  no  more, 
and  the  echoing  strains  of  the  distant  church-bell  had  died 
away.  Not  the  murmur  of  a  breeze  disturbed  a  single 
leaf.  Nothing  but  the  pattering  of  the  little  rills,  as  they 
leaped  down  the  ragged  rocks  which  overhang  the  road, 
and  the  resounding  of  a  distant  cascade,  mingled  with  the 
rumbling  of  my  own  footsteps  as  I  passed  over  the  under- 
ground ledges,  which,  in  childhood,  we  called  the  "  hollow 
ground,"  affrighted  me.  In  one  place,  the  road  passes 
through  a  tunneled  rock  several  rods,  and,  in  another,  over 
a  high  bridge,  which  spans  a  deep  gorge  from  the  mountain. 
In  the  whole  distance  the  road  passed  but  one  or  two  huts, 
and  the  new  tower  of  Lady  Kenmare.  Nothing  relieves 
the  solitude  of  this  glen,  but  every  thing  is  wrought  out  in 
a  varied  and  romantic  grandeur  which  never  tires. 

I  trudged  on,  and,  at  half  past  ten  o'clock,  reached 
the  Muckruss  hotel,  to  the  great  comfort  of  my  com- 
panions, who  were  becoming  alarmed  for  my  safety,  not 
knowing  whither  I  had  gone.  The  cottiers  had  returned 
from  mass,  and  several  were  in  waiting  to  serve  us.  Sir 
Richard  was  on  hand,  ready  to  conduct  us  whithersoever 
it  should  please  us  to  so — to  the  Eagle's  Nest,  Commedhuv, 
the  Gap  of  Dunloe,  or  any  where  else.  And  Mary,  attired 
in  her  Sunday  suit,  improved  most  by  a  smooth,  white  ker- 
chief over  her  head,  and  still  barefoot,  stood  modestly  by 
the  corner  of  the  road,  with  her  mug  of  milk,  covered  by 
her  clean  apron.  One  or  two  others,  more  bold,  came  to 
the  courtyard  of  the  hotel,  and  stood  among  the  men,  near 
the  gate.  All  looked  sad  when  they  learned  that  we  should 
take  no  more  rambles ;  but,  after  church  in  the  town,  go  on 
to  Tralee. 

After  breakfasting,  as  about  to  mount  the  car  which  was 
to  take  us  away,  many  of  the  people  commenced  the  most 
importunate  beggary,  entreating  us,  in  the  name  of  God 
and  by  the  hopes  of  eternity,  to  bestow  something  upon 
them.  Saddest  in  the  group,  stood  Sir  Richard  Courtenay. 
He  looked  the  picture  of  despair.    His  spirit  had  failed  him. 


DISHEARTENING. 


143 


His  hopes  were  fled.  His  fair  prospects  ot  several  days' 
employment  were  all  destroyed.  He  could  scarcely  speak. 
He  had  supposed  we  were  to  imitate  those  who  come 
and  linger  here  for  weeks — Mrs.  Hall,  and  others,  whose 
excellencies  he  praised  very  highly.  And,  as  our  benefac- 
tions had  been  rather  liberal  so  far,  he  expected  to  reap  a 
good  harvest  from  men  who  had  come  so  far  to  see  the 
beauties  of  Killarney,  and  who  entered  so  deeply  into  the 
wants  and  sympathies  of  the  people.  These  expectations 
were  all  suddenly  demolished,  and  he  could  not  see  where 
others  would  be  awakened,  as  the  troblous  times  keep 
every  body  at  home. 

And  Mary  felt  bad.  Another  cloud  had  darkened  her 
prospects  of  getting  to  America.  Perhaps  she  thought  we 
were  ungenerous,  that  we  could  give  her  a  few  pounds  as 
well  as  not — people  often  think  so  of  those  they  count 
rich.  But  she  did  not  beg  nor  murmur.  It  was  plain, 
however,  that  she  felt  sad  under  her  disappointment;  that 
her  heart,  which  grew  light  at  the  encouraging  prospect  I 
presented  yesterday  for  her  getting  away  from  her  wretch- 
edness with  her  mother,  was  again  heavy  as  lead.  Her 
voice  trembled  ;  her  eyes  gathered  tears  ;  her  whole  coun- 
tenance was  sad.  I  gave  her  a  paltry  sixpence,  and  felt 
condemned  when  I  did  it,  for  I  appreciated  the  force  of  the 
strange  inequality  which  prevails  among  men.  Was  it 
brotherly  in  me  to  give  so  meanly,  to  one  so  worthy  and 
miserable  ?  But  there  were  many  others  in  as  low  condi- 
tion. I  could  not  give  even  a  sixpence  to  each,  and  reserve 
enough  to  return  home  by  the  most  direct  route.  And  so 
I  justified  myself  with  the  reflection  that  "  discretion  is  the 
better  part" — of  charity  as  well  as  valor.  We  distributed 
some  pennies,  which  only  whetted  the  beggarly  appetites 
of  these  impoverished  creatures,  and  made  them  more 
rampant  in  their  entreaties.  We  did  not  get  rid  of  them 
till  we  bade  adieu,  and  our  car  drove  off  at  a  rapid  rate. 

These  were  but  the  initiatory  scenes — the  prelude  to  the 
grand  dramas  of  human  misery  and  degradation,  I  will  not 


114 


SUBMISSION    UNDER  WRONGS. 


say  depravity,  which  were  yet  to  be  enacted  before  us. 
These  people  are  not  so  depraved  as  they  might  be  ;  not  so 
much  so  as  their  wretched  condition  would  seem  to  indicate 
— almost  to  justify,  in  the  scale  of  worldly  reckoning.  I 
wonder  they  are  so  forbearing,  so  indulgent  towards  their 
oppressors  as  they  are.  It  is  because  oppression  and  suffer- 
ing crush  the  spirit,  and  make  a  man  despise  himself.  In 
other  times,  and  in  other  lands,  there  would  be  no  safety 
for  the  haughty,  domineering  nobility,  who  live  in  splen- 
dor among  these  starving  millions.  I  am  surprised  to  see 
the  extremes  of  wealth  and  poverty,  pride  and  misery, 
knowledge  and  ignorance,  arrogance  and  degradation, 
dwelling  in  such  close  proximity,  and  so  much  peace  abid- 
ing the  unholy  mixture.  It  is,  doubtless,  well  it  is  so,  for 
rebellion,  anarchy,  and  vengeance  are  always  to  be  de- 
plored. They  are  the  worst,  the  unsafest  means  to  redress 
a  wrong,  overcome  an  injury,  or  gain  a  right.  They  but 
enhance  the  evil  they  vainly  seek  to  correct.  It  is  the 
gradual  warmth  of  spring  that  melts  the  snow,  and  awakens 
vegetation  into  life  and  beauty. 

All  was  peace,  and  quiet,  and  beauty,  from  Cloghereen  to 
Killarney.  The  whole  distance  is  a  continual  succession 
of  elegant  mansions,  charming  pleasure-grounds,  and  rich 
fields  in  the  highest  state  of  cultivation,  all  of  which  ap- 
peared to  great  advantage  on  this  calm  and  delightful  spring 
Sabbath-day.  The  entrance  to  the  town,  by  a  long  wind- 
ing avenue  of  stately  shade  trees,  whose  venerable  branches 
interlock  over  the  road,  is  remarkably  beautiful,  and  the 
first  appearance  of  the  houses  at  that  end  of  the  main 
street  is  not  bad.  They  were  originally  built  with  some 
respect  to  order  and  comfort.  But  as  we  advance  into  the 
central  and  farther  part,  the  scene  changes  and  every  thing 
bears  the  marks  of  penury,  filth,  and  indolence. 

We  drove  to  some  sort  of  hotel,  near  the  post  house, 
where  we  were  beset  by  several  men  to  go  to  this  place  or 
to  that,  and  by  ragged  boys  and  girls  to  give  them  a  "  ha'- 
pennv."    The  men  supposed  we  had  just  arrived  in  town. 


A   RETURNED  EMIGRANT. 


14$ 


and  as  we  had  stopped  at  neither  the  King's  Arms,  or  Ken- 
mare  Arms,  nor  gone  to  the  Victoria,  we  were,  therefore, 
lawful  plunder  for  any  of  the  smaller  inns  and  boarding 
houses.  A  regular  row  was  created  among  the  crowd,  of 
which  we  were  the  innocent  cause. 

Two  men  came  to  blows,  but  were  soon  separated  by  the 
interference  of  the  police.  Each  contended  that  his  house 
was  the  most  respectable,  but  found  it  difficult  to  sustain  his 
claim,  because,  as  is  most  common  in  all  similar  cases,  there 
was  no  great  respectability  to  either.  One  of  the  rival 
combatants  had  lived  in  America,  and  therefore  claimed  to 
have  a  great  affection  for  us,  and  a  right  to  our  patronage. 
He  was  willing  to  do  us  any  service  in  his  way,  if  we  would 
"  put  up"  at  his  house,  and  would  be  especially  careful  to 
keep  us  from  being  imposed  upon  by  his  countrymen.  The 
other  asserted,  and  many  voices  sustained  the  opinion,  that 
he  kept  a  low,  drinking  and  gambling  house,  and  that  no  i:  da- 
cent  sintilmin"  would  disgrace  himself,  bv  visiting  it.  The 

~  O  'J  O 

appearance  of  the  returned  tavern-keeper  was  unfavorable 
to  his  honesty,  and  we  remembered  that  his  class  at  home 
were  not  necessarily  well  educated  in  the  morals  of  good 
hotel-keeping,  though  he  was  exceedingly  boisterous  in  his 
praises  of  our  country  and  countrymen.  We  wondered  he 
did  not  stay  there,  and  the  fellows  about  us  denounced 
him  because  he  did  not,  saying  he  had  come  back  to  "chate 
his  poour  coounthrymin.  when  he  might  a  betther  staid  till 
Amiriky  an  soo  left  room  for  others.''  Another,  said  ';his 
coonduct  was  soo  bad  he  could  not  sthay  there,  they'd  not 
kape  him.''  They  at  once  took  it  that  we  were  against  him, 
and  so  they  run  him  hard,  applying  all  sorts  of  harsh  lan- 
guage, and  Irish  epithets  we  did  not  understand.  This  he 
could  not  endure,  but  became  most  furious,  and  defied  any 
of  them  to  fight  him.  We  were  never  so  violently  beset 
before,  nor  so  nearly  connected  with  a  disturbance  of  the 
peace.  A  hundred  men  and  boys  were  gathered  about  us 
before  we  had  time  to  consider  where  we  were.  We  final- 
ly crowded  through  the  mass  and  deposited  our  sacks  and 

IS 


146 


A   GROUP   OF  MISERY. 


secured  our  seats  to  Tralee,  in  the  mail  car,  which  was  to 
leave  at  two  o'clock.  The  crowd  followed  us  wherever  we 
went.  We  could  not  return  to  the  Episcopal  church,  and 
so  edged  our  way  across  the  street,  to  find  a  refuge  in  the 
Catholic  chapel,  the  gate- way  of  which  was  guarded  by  the 
proper  officers. 

The  old  edifice  stands  back  from  the  street,  leaving  an 
open  court  with  the  buildings  of  the  convent  on  one  side. 
The  passage  way  was  lined  with  the  most  miserable  and 
loathsome  set  of  creatures  ever  beheld.  Immediately  inside 
the  gate  there  were  three  men  stationed,  who  were  busy 
collecting  pennies  in  boxes,  which  they  held  out  to  all 
that  passed.  When  a  quantity  was  collected,  they  emptied 
them  into  a  large  chest  standing  close  by  them. 

Every  phase  of  human  misery  was  represented  there — the 
decrepitude  of  tremulous  dotage,  the  pale  and  haggard  look 
of  recent  and  severe  sickness,  the  vacant  stare  of  incurable 
idiocy,  the  pitiful  moan  of  sickly  and  famishing  childhood, 
the  crutch  of  cripples,  the  gloom  of  blindness,  the  loath- 
someness of  deformity  and  destitution.  A  darker  picture 
of  complete  wretchedness  could  not  be  presented  to  mortal 
eves.  I  was  overwhelmed  to  see  such  a  mass  collected  in 
one  spot.  It  was  not  without  a  strong  effort  I  could  nerve 
myself  sufficiently  to  contemplate  it.  I  felt  an  involuntary 
shudder  come  over  me,  and,  at  first,  I  shrunk  from  passing 
through  it.  I  have  read  the  imaginary  descriptions  of 
misery  the  most  odious  and  profound ;  but  here  w7as  the 
tangible  reality — the  very  centre  of  it — in  sober  earnest- 
ness, huddled  close  about  me,  and  vastly  more  odious  than 
any  pen  ever  delineated. 

Some  were  seated,  counting  their  beads,  and  muttering 
their  prayers.  One  old  woman,  doubled  together,  was 
smoking  a  short  pipe,  apparently  as  old  as  herself ;  another 
was  lighting  hers.  All  had  little  tin  cups  which  they  reached 
out  to  us  as  we  passed  by,  with  an  invocation  to  God  to  be- 
stow blessings  upon  us.  Their  cadaverous  visages,  snarled 
hair,  shriveled  trembling  hands,  patched  and  ragged  clothing, 


THE  CHAPEL. 


147 


bespoke  a  degree  of  destitution  and  misery  which  defies 
description.  Little  children,  in  tattered,  filthy  garments,  not 
half  covering  their  nakedness,  were  playing  behind  them, 
their  hands  and  faces  looked  as  if  their  parents  were  unbe- 
lievers in  the  virtues  of  cold  water.  Men  and  women  were 
standing  about  in  groups,  talking  idly,  and  others  were 
passing  in  and  out,  dipping  their  fingers  into  the  little  tin 
cups  held  out  to  them  by  several  girls  who  appeared  to  be 
stationed  there  for  the  purpose,  and  crossing  themselves 
with  the  "  holy  water"  contained  in  them. 

The  chapel  is  an  old  stone  building,  looking,  outside  and 
in,  as  forlorn  as  the  people  collected  in  and  about  it.  The 
ceiling  is  low,  and  the  wide  galleries  just  high  enough  to 
clear  one's  head.  The  sides  are  hung  about  with  pictures 
of  the  most  ordinary  execution,  representing  sacred  sub- 
jects and  legends  of  the  Irish  church.  There  is  an  attempt 
at  display  about  the  altar  in  the  way  of  paint  and  tinsel, 
but  the  appearance  is  exceedingly  untasteful  and  inappro- 
priate. A  dense  mass  of  people,  of  both  sexes,  and  all  ages, 
were  huddled  together,  standing  or  kneeling  on  the  coarse 
stone  pavement,  each  carrying  on  his  devotions  by  him- 
self, by  prayers,  confessions,  and  crosses,  while  priests  were 
performing  at  the  altar.  The  crowd  was  so  great  we  could 
not  penetrate  far  into  the  church,  not  sufficiently  to  hear 
what  was  going  on. 

In  the  gallery,  which  is  seated,  I  saw  several  people  who 
were  genteelly  dressed.  I  was  told  those  seats  were  re- 
served for  the  better  class  of  worshippers.  As  I  looked  at 
them,  and  observed  their  inattention  to  the  passing  services, 
I  wondered  if,  in  fact,  they  were  really  any  better,  an)- 
more  religious,  than  those  kneeling  on  the  stone  floor.  It 
was  a  difficult  question.  God  knows  the  hearts  of  men, 
and  discerns  the  motives  which  regulate  conduct.  In  His 
eyes  the  ranks  of  earth  are  nothing.  He  requires  all  and 
each  to  act  according  to  capacity  and  means,  holding 
each  responsible  for  what  he  has,  and  not  for  what  he  has 
not ;  and  measuring  His  rewards  and  punishments  with 


148 


INEFFICIENT  SYSTEMS. 


equal  justice  to  ail.  No  proud  position,  nor  feigned  humil- 
ity can  shield  them  from  His  scrutiny,  neither  can  poverty 
or  oppression  justify  the  other  in  wrong.  All  stand  alike 
accountable  to  Him  for  the  improvement  of  the  talents  en- 
trusted to  their  keeping.    There  is  no  excuse  for  any. 

But  I  marveled  that  a  system  of  religion  which  claims 
such  high  sanctions — direct  and  immaculate  authority,  has 
done  so  little  to  establish  the  "  kingdom  of  God  "  on  earth. 
Certainly,  this  that  I  now  see  is  not  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
or  else  I  have  conceived  very  erroneous  ideas  of  the  nature 
of  that  kingdom.  Here  has  not  been  performed  the  work 
of  levelling  the  mountains  and  hills,  filling  the  valleys,  mak- 
ing the  crooked  ways  straight  and  the  rough  places  smooth. 
Here  is  no  "  highway  of  the  Lord  "  for  the  redeemed  to 
return  and  come  to  Zion  ;  but  all  the  odious  features  of 
worldly  pride  and  distinction,  of  want  and  wickedness. 
I  have  seen  all  this  diversity  at  home  ;  and  I  looked  for  the 
fruits  of  a  religion  which  claims  all  precedence — direct 
succession,  apostolic  authority — and  I  have  been  anxious  to 
know  if  it  is  really  more  effective  in  the  work  of  human 
redemption,  in  ameliorating  the  condition  of  those  who 
adopted  it.  It  has  had  centuries  for  the  experiment — long 
years  undisturbed  in  the  exercise  of  its  prerogatives.  Alas, 
for  the  results !  Do  such  fruits  betoken  the  purity  and  ho- 
liness of  the  true  faith  ?  "  By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know 
them." 

The  mail  car  had  arrived,  and  was  standing  in  the  street. 
As  we  returned  from  the  church,  the  crowd  gathered 
around  us,  as  clamorous  in  their  beggary  as  before.  We 
procured  our  sacks,  placed  them  in  the  "  well "  of  the 
car  and  took  our  seats.  When  the  multitude  found  us 
about  to  leave,  a  large  portion  left  us.  But  several  hung 
about,  with  some  of  whom  we  entered  into  conversation. 
Among  the  number  was  a  little  lad,  it  might  be,  fifteen 
years  old,  who  particularly  attracted  my  attention.  He 
was  well  formed,  and,  phrenologically  speaking,  had  a  fine 
head — large,  broad,  high,  and  every  way  well  balanced. 


A   FINE  LAD. 


149 


His  features  were  uncommonly  fine,  sparkling  with  intelli- 
gence and  beauty.  His  dress  was  poor,  but  decent.  The 
patches  were  all  sewed  tight ;  there  were  no  rags  dangling 
about.  His  shirt  was  clean,  as  was  common  with  all,  and 
so  were  his  hands,  and  face,  and  feet.  He  seemed  anxious 
to  inquire  about  our  country,  and  I  indulged  him  with  my 
chief  attention.  He  expressed  a  strong  desire  to  go  there, 
but  saw  no  means  by  which  he  could  do  so.  To  try  him, 
I  asked  him  if  he  would  go  with  me. 

"  Ayeh,  yer  honor,  and  serve  ye  wi'  all  my  soul." 

He  spoke  very  good  English,  but  tinged  with  the  Kerry 
accent,  just  enough  to  make  it  exceedingly  pleasing. 

"  Will  you  go  with  me  now — get  right  on  the  car  and 
start  off  immediately  ?  for  1  am  going,  you  see." 

"  Yes,  sir !  an'  I  will  run  an'  tell  my  sister,  and  come 
right  back  as  fast  as  I  can ;"  and  he  started. 

I  called  him  back,  telling  him  I  could  not  take  him,  as  I 
was  going  to  other  countries  before  I  returned ;  and  I 
needed  further  recommendations  that  he  was  a  good  boy. 

Many  voices  answered,  saying,  "  James  Mahanna  is  a 
fine  boy,  an'  ivery  body  likes  him."  Even  his  young  com- 
panions, who  showed  some  marks  of  envy  at  my  partiality 
for  him,  after  rejecting  their  offers  to  go  home  with  me,  de- 
clared he  was  the  best  among  them. 

I  inquired  of  him  what  he  could  do,  and  how  long  he 
would  live  with  me.  He  said  he  would  do  any  thing  he 
could,  and  live  with  me  as  long  as  I  wished,  if  I  would 
clothe  him  and  give  him  enough  to  eat.  He  said  he  could 
read  and  write  a  little,  but,  since  his  parents  died,  he  had 
not  been  at  school  much,  as  he  could  not  pay  the  tuition, 
and  it  was  all  his  sisters  could  do  to  support  themselves. 

I  asked  him  if  he  could  work.  He  said  he  could  when 
he  could  get  any  thing  to  do,  and  that  was  not  often,  as 
there  were  so  many  more  who  were  always  looking  out 
for  jobs.  Several  by-standers  assured  me  he  was  a  very 
faithful  bov.    One  of  his  sisters  worked  from  home,  he  told 

13* 


150 


A  DOUBTFUL  PROSPECT. 


me,  for  £2  a-year  ;  •  and  the  other  did  what  she  could  in  the 
town.    One  was  twenty,  the  other  eighteen. 

"  An'  very  cliver  gearls  they  are,"  said  a  middle-aged 
man,  who  till  then  had  not  spoken,  though  he  had  observed 
closely  all  that  had  been  said  ;  "  an'  it's  the  kind  thing 
yer  honor'll  do,  an'  he  takes  the  young  lad  till  Amiriky. 
It's  a  smaart  man  he'll  be  afther  makin',  it  is,  an'  ye  geve 
him  a  chance." 

The  boy  looked  pleased  at  receiving  such  a  direct  re- 
commendation ;  for  the  man  who  had  spoken  seemed  to 
share  largely  the  confidence  of  those  about  him.  An  other, 
coming  nearer  to  me,  said,  "  It  is  soo,  yer  honor.  Misther 
O'Donnelly  has  said  thruly,  an'  ye  may  bleve  ivery  word 
uv  ii.  Ye  may,  an  sure  Jam  is  a  good  boy,  an'll  do  all  yer 
honor  likes  of  him." 

Several  others  attested  to  the  good  character  of  the  lad, 
and  all  seemed  glad  at  the  good  fortune  which  seemed  to 
await  him.  There  is  scarcely  a  man  or  boy,  or  young 
woman  in  the  country,  among  the  common  people,  who 
would  not  esteem  it  great  good  fortune,  almost  a  mark  of 
a  special  Providence,  to  be  offered  an  opportunity  to  go  to 
America  under  such  circumstances  as  these. 

My  heart  was  pained  to  think  the  hopes  which  had  been 
awakened,  the  brightest,  probably,  he  ever  had,  must  be  so 
soon  disappointed.  I  am  not  quite  sure  I  did  right,  but  I 
could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  blast  them  all  at  once  Per- 
haps I  did  wrong  to  say  so  much  ;  but  it  was  no  more  than 
what  every  body  is  talking  about,  but  many  dare  not  hope 
for.  I  took  the  name  of  the  lad,  and  promised,  if  I  found 
it  convenient — what  a  miserable  excuse — I  would  send  for 
him  in  season  to  meet  me  at  Liverpool,  so  as  to  return  with 
me.  He  was  delighted  with  the  idea,  and  wanted  to  know 
if  I  would  not  also  take  his  sisters,  to  work  at  service  in 
my  family.  This  I  thought  I  might  as  well  encourage,  and 
so  told  him  if  I  sent  for  one  I  would  send  for  all. 

M  An  good  servants  ye'll  have,"  said  the  former  speaker. 


MORAL  DEPRESSION. 


151 


u  Betther  can't  be  foound  in  all  the  kingdom — I  know  them 
weel-a-bit  these  many  yares." 

"  Tis  the  same  I'd  like  to  spake  yer  honor  ov  um.  It's 
joost  over  the  strate  from  them  I  live.  Sorra  a  comfort 
have  the  darlints  had  since  the  good  Lord  took  their  blissid 
mither  up  to  heaven.  'Tis  wishin  some  kind  gintilmin,  like 
yerself,  would  take  these  poour  childers  till  Amiriky,  I've  bin 
these  many  days.  The  blissid  mither'll  sure  remember  ye." 

Much  more  was  said  to  the  same  purpose,  for,  when  these 
Irishmen  start  on  a  course  there  is  no  end  to  the  race. 
They  are  most  extravagant  in  their  praise  or  condemna- 
tion, and  neither  is  willing  to  be  outdone.  I  was  surprised 
to  admiration  at  the  interest  manifested  in  behalf  of  the  lad, 
who.  I  have  no  doubt,  deserved  all  the  encomiums  bestowed 
upon  him.  But  it  is  not  often  that  we  see  such  proofs  of 
disinterestedness  among  the  Irish.  Necessity  has  forced 
them  into  the  narrowest  selfishness,  though  naturally  they 
have  generous  hearts — for  their  immediate  friends,  at  least, 
and  lofty  ideas  of  personal  distinction.  But  how  can  people, 
so  oppressed,  and  starved,  and  ignorant,  and  superstitious  as 
they  are,  cultivate  the  higher  virtues,  the  loftier  sentiments, 
the  nobler  qualities  of  human  nature,  or  even  keep  them- 
selves, under  such  untoward  circumstances,  from  depravity 
and  shame.  It  is  a  marvel  that  the  Irish  are  no  worse  than 
we  find  them  ;  that  they  are  not  more  fierce  and  cruel  than 
the  savages  of  the  wilderness,  for  they  are  not  without 
provocation.  Christianity,  disguised  and  disfigured  as  it  is, 
has  a  powerfully  restraining  influence  over  them,  and  keeps 
them  back  in  so  many  cases,  from  the  grosser  crimes  of 
vengeance.  They  have  learned  much  of  long-suffering, 
and  patient  endurance  in  the  schools  of  experience,  under 
whose  severe  discipline  they  have  been  writhing  for  cen- 
turies. The  ministers  of  religion  have  taught  them  "  to  ab- 
dicate all  ria^ht  and  title  to  their  own  will — to  their  actions 
— nay  to  their  own  thoughts — to  be  no  longer  their  own 
masters,  but  in  perpetual  obedience"  to  others.  They 
have  learned  their  lessons  too  well,  as  their  deplorable  con- 


152 


UNDUE  INFLUENCE. 


dition  testifies  to  all,  wherever  they  go.  They  have  lost 
that  manliness,  that  self-reliance,  and  immediate  dependence 
upon  God,  which  looks  above  the  wrongs  and  outrages  of  the 
world,  and  seeks  in  Heaven's  name  to  over-master  them. 
The  command  of  a  supposed  superior  has  become  to  them 
the  will  of  God,  and  so  they  tamely  submit  to  the  wrongs 
and  burdens  piled  upon  them  ;  till,  at  last,  the  hope  of  a  de- 
liverance has  vanished,  and  despair  and  beggary  have  taken 
its  place. 

The  effect  of  Romanism  has  been,  and  always  will  be,  to 
produce  the  most  abject  subserviency,  wherever  its  control 
is  unresisted.  It  demands,  as  cited  above,  the  annihilation 
of  all  individualism,  and  an  entire  submission  to  the  will  of 
another  whom  it  acknowledges  as  master.  Through  the 
accepted  superior,  the  command  of  God  comes  to  them  ;  and 
they  become  the  supple  tools  in  the  hands  of  the  skillful 
and  designing,  to  work  out  the  problems  of  pride  and  oppres- 
sion. 

And  every  other  system  which  fetters  the  liberty  of  the 
will,  enslaves  the  conscience,  or  binds  down  the  soul  by 
forms  of  faith,  or  rules  of  practice,  by  mere  authority,  other 
than  the  force  of  truth  and  the  conviction  of  right,  becomes 
the  tyrant  by  usurping  what  belongs  to  God  alone ;  no  mat- 
ter if  assent  has  once  been  given,  seriously  or  thoughtless- 
ly. When  convinced  by  further  developments/of  the  form- 
er wrong,  the  reserved  right  which  God  holds  in  his  own 
hands  and  delegates  not  to  another,  is  resumed,  and  His 
authority  appealed  to.  Study,  reflection,  patient  investiga- 
tion, prayerfully  pursued,  may  lead  to  new  discoveries  of 
truth,  which  nothing  but  the  grossest  bigotry  would  prevent 
one  from  adopting. 

It  is  a  most  daring  assumption  for  any  man,  or  set  of 
men,  to  pretend  to  apprehend  all  truth — to  possess  the  right 
to  set  up  barriers  beyond  which  another  may  not  go,  but  at 
his  peril.  None  but  one  who  thinks  himself  infallible,  or  in 
the  exercise  of  a  'divine  right''  will  have  the  audacity  to 
step  between  God  and  his  child,  to  disturb  the  sacred  rela- 


PERSONAL  FREEDOM. 


153 


tion  which  exists,  as  is  acknowledged  in  the  gospel.  If 
kings  or  prelates  could  exhibit  the  proof  of  knowledge  suf- 
ficient to  determine  for  all  others ;  and  did  they  never 
change  their  plans,  nor  alter  their  views,  there  would  be,  at 
least,  some  consistency  in  their  claims.  But  when  they  are 
as  unsettled,  fluctuating,  and  wicked  as  the  humblest  of  their 
dependents,  and  advance  by  the  same  means  to  what  know- 
ledge they  do  possess,  who  can  resign  his  own  judgment — 
shut  his  own  eyes,  to  follow  them  ?  Did  truth  come  to  them 
intuitively  or  by  direct  inspiration,  there  would  be  some 
reason  in  the  demand  to  submit  to  them  without  question. 
Had  they  eyes  to  see  while  all  the  rest  were  blind,  we 
would  allow  them  to  judge  of  colors,  and  would  yield  with- 
out a  murmur.  Had  they  ears  while  all  others  were  deaf, 
we  would  not  object  to  their  rules  of  music.  But  so  long 
as  they  are  like  us — and  we  like  them,  we  can  not  bury  our 
identity,  or  shirk  our  own  responsibility  under  the  shadow 
of  their  pretended  greatness  and  authority. 

The  practical  working  of  these  principles,  politically,  re- 
ligiously, and  socially,  have  been  fully  tested  on  Ireland. 
And  here  the  fatal  lesson  is  read  in  the  filthy  hovels,  tattered 
garments,  wan  faces,  crushed  hearts  and  superstitious  ob- 
servances of  this  whole  nation.  Not  many  among  them 
feel  the  dignity  and  freedom  of  a  child  of  God.  Not  many 
dare  stand  up  and  say,  "  In  God's  name  I  do  it."  All  say, 
"  It  is  by  permission !  I  dare  not  eat  meat  on  Friday  be- 
cause the  priest  says  I  must  not."  But  there  is  no  longer 
need  of  such  a  law  in  Ireland,  for  few  can  get  it  on  that 
or  any  other  day  of  the  week  ! 

Irishmen  can  never  rise  in  the  scale  of  moral  excellence, 
till  this  monstrous  yoke  is  taken  from  them.  When  that  is 
done,  they  may  begin  to  hope,  for  they  will  feel  a  freedom 
and  a  responsibility  to  which  they  are  now  strangers. 
They  will  start  up  the  ascent  of  a  moral  elevation,  down 
which  they  have  been  forced  by  the  oppressions  of  church 
and  state.  Each  advance  will  encourage  to  bolder  efforts, 
till  every  stumbling-block  shall  be  taken  out  of  the  way, 


154 


AN   UNFINISHED  CATHEDRAL. 


and  they  will  run  fearlessly  in  the  heavenward  race,  with 
the  glittering  prize  before  them.  The  multitude  who  bow 
at  the  tinkling  of  a  bell,  or  cross  themselves  at  a  particular 
signal,  in  the  church,  while  a  service  is  going  on  in  a  lan- 
guage they  do  not  understand,  are  acting  mechanically,  not 
from  conviction  ;  not  as  men  should  act,  whose  souls  com- 
mune with  God,  and  drink  in  his  spirit  of  wisdom  and  lib- 
erty. They  are  honest,  sincere,  devout ;  and  so  are  the 
worshippers  of  Budha  and  the  followers  of  Mahomet.  Are 
they  wise  ?  Do  they  comprehend  ?  Is  it  judgment,  or 
habit,  free-will  or  cowering  submission  ?  The  unbiased 
mind  does  not  hesitate  to  give  an  answer. 


TO  TRALEE. 

The  horse  was  harnessed  to  the  car ;  another  passenger 
took  his  seat  with  us  ;  I  spake  some  encouraging  words 
to  the  people ;  gave  James  my  hand,  in  proof  of  my  sin- 
cere regard,  promising  not  to  forget  him ;  and,  amid  the 
hearty  benedictions  of  the  people  for  a  prosperous  journey, 
and  safe  return,  we  started  for  Tralee,  distant  nineteen 
miles. 

We  passed,  on  our  way,  a  large,  unfinished  building,  de- 
signed for  a  cathedral  church.  Its  proportions  are  im- 
mense, its  style  elegant ;  but  those  who  commenced  its 
erection  did  not  exercise  the  prudence  suggested  in  the 
Gospel — to  count  the  cost  before  beginning  the  work. 
This  is  another  proof  of  the  wrong  of  priestcraft.  Here 
is  a  poor,  ignorant,  degraded,  half-starved  population. 
They  have  not  the  means  of  procuring  the  common  ne- 
cessaries of  life  ;  most  of  them  can  neither  read  nor  write  ; 
and  yet  a  tax  is  laid  upon  them  to  rear  a  stately  edifice, 
which,  in  architectural  beauty  and  grandeur,  shall  vie  with 
anv  thing  in  the  countrv.  Immense  sums  have  been  ex- 
pended  already,  and  yet  the  walls  are  not  completed.  It 
stands  there,  another,  but  yet  unfinished  proof  of  the  pride 
and  fallacy  of  an  arrogant  priesthood,  for  the  people  had  no 


SECTARIAN  PRIDE. 


155 


voice  in  the  design  and  execution  of  it.  The  old  chapel 
is  commodious,  but  inferior  in  its  appearance.  It  does  not 
compare  well  with  the  claims  of  supremacy,  nor  rank  above 
the  old  church  of  the  Protestants.  Forgetting  the  meek  and 
humble  spirit  of  Christianity,  which  sanctifies  even  poverty 
and  makes  it  tolerable,  it  was  deemed  advisable  to  erect  a 
splendid  edifice,  which  should  become  attractive  to  the  out- 
ward eye,  acceptable  to  worldly  pride,  able  to  flatter  this 
simple  people  with  the  notion  that  God  has  been  very  kind 
to  them,  in  giving  them  a  building  so  much  superior  to  their 
neighbors ! 

There  might  be  a  seeming  fitness  in  all  this — for  the 
world  and  the  church  do  so — if  many  persons,  already  im- 
poverished, were  not  denied  the  means  of  subsistence,  for 
lack  of  what  is  here  piled  up  in  wrought  stones  laid  in 
mortar,  one  upon  an  other — not  for  convenience,  but  for 
pride.  It  may  be  too  utilitarian  to  speak  thus ;  but  I  can 
not  forbear  the  thought,  and  hence  I  may  as  well  utter  it. 
It  is  questionable  whether  all  attempts  at  display,  above 
real  comfort,  neatness,  and  beauty,  are  not,  at  all  times  and 
in  all  places,  a  violation  of  the  spirit  of  that  religion  whose 
founder  was  meek  and  lowly,  requiring  his  followers  to  be 
"  not  conformed  to  this  world,  but  transformed  by  the  re- 
newing of  their  minds,"  so  as  to  raise  another  standard  on 
the  purity  of  their  lives,  the  sublimity  of  their  hopes,  and 
sincerity  of  their  devotions,  which  should  spread  above  the 
low  and  sordid  pride  of  earth.  God  "dwells  not  in  temples 
made  with  hands,  neither  is  he  worshipped  by  men's  hands, 
as  though  he  needed  anything."  We  know  that  truepietv 
seeks  no  display  ;  and  genuine  benevolence  does  not  sound 
a  trumpet  before  its  face.  Truth  can  be  taught  in  simple 
words  ;  goodness  enforced  by  humble  actions ;  and  virtue 
recommended  without  a  grand  display.  There  is  much  to 
please  the  eye.  and  delight  the  fancy,  in  the  architectural 
symmetry  and  gay  decorations  of  a  massive  building; 
something  truly  grand  and  overpowering  in  the  perform- 
ance of  showy  religious  rites,  as  the  chants  and  responses 


156 


A   POOR  HOUSE. 


resound  in  dying  echoes  among  the  lofty  arches  of  an  old 
Gothic  cathedral ;  and  one  feels  his  passions  stirred,  and  his 
neart  melted  to  tears,  precisely  as  he  does  in  the  theatre,  or 
at  an  Italian  opera.  In  both  cases,  it  is  the  music  and  the 
acting  that  affects  him,  for  he  does  not  understand  the  lan- 
guage of  either. 

But  I  will  not  discuss  this  topic  here.  Yet  I  can  not 
suppress  the  thought  that  there  is  something  strangely  in- 
consistent in  this  attempt  to  extract  from  the  substance  of 
this  wretched  people,  by  promises  and  threats,  in  public  and 
in  private,  at  the  confessionals  and  at  home ;  involving  not 
only  their  duty  and  respectability  here,  but  affecting  their 
prospect  of  salvation  hereafter.  Cases  were  related  to  me 
which  justify  these  remarks,  and  demand  the  severest  re- 
probation. Finding  it  impossible  to  wrench  from  this  fam- 
ishing population  the  means  to  complete  this  magnificent 
edifice,  an  emissary  has  been  sent  to  America  to  beg  of 
our  laboring  citizens  the  adequate  amount.  Religion,  con- 
trolled by  misguided  and  proud  partizans,  has  done  strange 
things  in  this  world  of  ours. 

A  little  way  above  the  town  stands  the  poor-house — a 
large,  new  building,  very  handsomely  situated,  with  fine,  open 
grounds  about  it,  well  fenced,  and  very  neat.  It  is  the  only 
sign  of  improvement  and  progress  in  the  place.  It  looks 
more  like  a  palace  than  any  thing  to  be  seen,  not  except- 
ing the  lordly  mansion  of  the  Earl  of  Kenmare. 

A  short  distance  further,  we  met  one  hundred  and  fifty 
or  two  hundred  boys,  from  twelve  years  downward,  who 
belong  to  the  work-house.  They  had  been  out  a  mile  or 
two,  for  a  walk,  under  the  charge  of  two  or  three  keepers. 
They  were  plainly  dressed  in  gray  clothes,  which  looked 
quite  neat.  They  were  walking  two  and  two,  and  seemed 
very  social  and  happy.  Two  little  urchins  had  become 
leg-weary,  and  were  mounted  on  the  backs  of  two  of  the 
largest,  who  were  very  froHcksome  under  their  burdens. 
These  children  are  fed  and  clothed  at  public  charge,  and 
taught  to  read,  and  write,  and  work.    Their  condition. 


RETROSPECTIVE  VIEW. 


157 


compared  with  the  masses  of  children,  is  fortunate.  Few 
would  object  to  have  their  children  in  the  work-house. 
But  those  who  have  any  property  complain  bitterly  of  the 
enormous  taxes  levied  to  support  the  government  which 
oppresses  them,  the  church  which  curses  them,  and  the 
poor-house  which  makes  them  all  poor.  The  doctrine  of 
legal  association  finds  a  hard  illustration  in  the  condition 
of  Ireland. 

Looking  back  from  the  eminence  over  which  we  passed, 
the  scenery  is  grand  and  beautiful  beyond  description. 
Seen  in  the  clear  sunlight  of  that  charming  day,  every 
thing  appeared  to  good  advantage.  Gauzy  clouds  were 
wrapt  about  the  highest  peaks,  and  the  shadows  which  fell 
upon  the  dark  glens  contrasted  strongly  with  the  clear  green 
meadows,  the  checkered  fields,  and  silvery  lakes.  Every 
thing  was  so  quiet,  soft  and  beautiful,  that  I  could  not  resist 
the  feeling  of  highest  admiration.  The  only  drawback  in 
all  that  region  of  natural  beauty,  and  splendor,  is  the  condi- 
tion of  the  people  who  dwell  there.  They,  like  a  blotch 
upon  the  face  of  beauty,  mar  the  whole  aspect,  and  leave 
the  heart  sad,  on  taking  a  farewell  view,  and  ever  after, 
when  memory  revisits  the  scenes  of  that  lovely  spot  of 
earth. 

I  have  dwelt  at  length,  perhaps  tediously,  upon  the  scene- 
ry about  Killarney,  because,  in  itself,  it  is  remarkably  fine, 
and  being  considered  superior  to  any  other  in  the  United 
Kingdom,  it  deserves  particular  description.  Besides  it 
surprised  me  with  its  peculiar  attractions,  being  unlike  any 
in  our  own  country,  and  far  more  rugged  and  beautiful  than 
1  had  expected  to  see  in  the  Emerald  Isle.  I  had  never 
read  a  particular  description  of  the  mountains  and  rural 
beauties  of  this  country,  but  always  thought  of  it  as  low  and 
flat,  and  half  covered  with  bogs  and  fens,  with  little  variety 
of  hill  and  dale,  mountain  and  plain.  What  was  my  sur- 
prise to  see  these  ranges  of  rocky  mountains,  piled  carelessly 
together,  heap  upon  heap,  split  up  by  deep  and  narrow  glens, 
and  bordered  by  overhanging  cliffs,  up  whose  jagged  sides 

14 


158 


PHYSICAL   AND   MORAL  CHARACTER. 


creep  the  tangled  honeysuckle,  and  wild  grape,  with  glassy 
lakes,  whose  fretted  sides  are  skirted  with  trees  of  most 
luxurious  growth,  and  studded  with  charming  villas,  where 
wealth  and  pleasure  find  a  secure  abode. 

With  the  character  of  a  people  we  are  apt  to  associate 
the  physical  character  of  the  country  they  inhabit.  It  is 
generally  thought  there  is  an  air  of  freedom  and  lofty  ambi- 
tion about  mountainous  regions  which  is  not  breathed  in  low 
and  marshy  plains.  Looking  from  that  stand-point,  who 
would  have  thought  to  find  more  than  sixty  mountains  in  Ire- 
land above  two  thousand  feet  high,  and  several  attaining  to 
more  than  three  thousand  feet  ?  But  such  is  the  fact.  The 
face  of  the  country  is  greatly  diversified,  equal  to  the 
most  hilly  States  of  our  Union,  and  the  soil  is  surprisingly 
rich  and  productive,  when  tolerably  cultivated.  There  is 
no  cause  for  the  misery  and  degradation  which  prevails  so 
extensively  here,  except  in  the  monstrous  exactions  and  op- 
pressions of  the  Government  and  the  Church,  and  the  con- 
sequent ignorance  and  inanity  of  the  people. 

Heaven  has  dealt  liberally  with  this  land  and  made  it  all 
the  fancy  of  poets  have  said  of  it,  "  the  Emerald  Isle — the 
gem  of  the  ocean."  And  could  a  spirit  of  self-identity,  in- 
dependence, and  individual  responsibility  be  awakened,  and 
the  onerous  impediments  of  priests  and  landlords  be  taken 
away,  this  people,  naturally  so  full  of  wit  and  endurance, 
would  soon  rise  in  the  scale  of  humanity  to  a  rank  equal  to 
any  other  nation.  As  it  is,  there  is  little  hope  of  their  re- 
generation, except  by  a  removal  to  other  and  more  favoring 
climes  ;  nor  then,  if  they  take  with  them  the  most  galling 
chains  that  hold  them  back  from  prosperity — which  too 
many  of  them  do — a  tame  submission  to  the  will  of  spiritual 
task-masters,  and  filth,  and  ignorance  in  which  so  many  of 
them  are  content  to  live. 

Crossing  the  ridge  of  hills  called  Slievemish,  not  more 
than  a  dozen  miles  in  extent,  we  had,  from  the  summit,  a 
splendid  view  of  the  whole  southern  range  of  mountains, 
stretching  from  Millstreet,  west  by  Killarney,  to  Valentia, 


A   PEN   IN   THE  HIGHWAY. 


159 


where  they  dip  into  the  ocean ;  of  the  Brandon  hills  on  the 
west,  and  stack  hills  on  the  north,  with  the  most  delicious 
valleys  between.  A  point  not  far  from  us  attains  an  eleva- 
tion of  nearly  three  thousand  feet. 

Along  the  road,  for  some  distance,  there  is  a  bleak  tract 
of  moorland,  which  is  sparsely  inhabited  and  badly  cultiva- 
ted. In  one  place  we  saw  a  hut,  or  pen,  built  in  the  Queen's 
highway,  by  placing  boards  cr  rails  so  that  one  end  would 
rest  upon  the  stone  wall,  and  the  other  on  the  ground  ;  a 
covering  of  straw  and  orreen  turf  was  thrown  over  these 
sticks,  and  the  house  was  finished.  It  was  such  a  one  as 
we  have  seen  put  up,  temporarily,  for  swine,  among  some  of 
the  least  thrifty  farmers  in  the  back  settlements  of  our 
country.  An  opening  was  left  on  one  side  for  a  door- way, 
over  which  hung  a  ragged  quilt,  thrown  partly  aside,  as  we 
passed,  so  that  we  could  look  in,  and  see  an  old  woman  sit- 
ting on  the  straw,  her  nakedness  scarcely  half  covered  by 
the  rags  she  was  holding  about  her.  Two  other  women,  a 
man,  and  several  children  were  about  the  pen,  all  of  them  in 
tattered  and  filthy  garments.  They  looked  as  if  in  a  state 
of  complete  destitution,  without  food  or  friend,  or  a  ray 
of  hope  to  kindle  a  thrill  of  joy  in  their  hearts. 

As  we  passed  at  a  rapid  rate,  they  looked  up  wistfully,  but 
were  too  emaciated  to  come  to  the  road  in  season  to  beg. 
We  passed  several  squads  of  people,  apparently  families, 
sitting  by  the  way  side,  or  lying  upon  the  grass,  with  bas- 
kets and  bundles  about  them. 

These,  the  driver  told  us,  were  families  who  had  been 
turned  out  of  their  houses  by  their  landlords,  and  were  wan- 
dering about  in  search  of  a  home,  or  for  something  to  do. 
They  subsisted  by  beggary,  and  often,  generally,  he  thought, 
slept  by  the  road  side.  We  asked  him  what  he  thought 
would  become  of  them  ? 

"  Och,  faix,  an  they'll  stharve  as  many  a  poour  crayture 
did  last  winther.  Twas  not  sthrange  to  see  um  in  scores 
along  the  rood  stark  dead,  an  the  childers  by  their  sides  a 
weeping  as  their  hearts  would  brake.    Yer  honors  know 


160 


DISTILLERIES   AND  GROG-SHOPS. 


nothing  of  poour  Ireland,  as  ye  sees  it  now.  'Tis  thruth 
I'm  telling  ye  ;  sor-ra  a  lie  in  it,  at  all ;  and  may  the  Lord 
have  mercy  upon  my  shoul." 

The  last  part  was  uttered  in  a  solemn  tone,  as  if  he  sus- 
pected us  of  incredulity.  We  asked  why  these  people 
did  not  go  to  the  poor  house. 

"  The  alms  house  do  ye  mane  ?  Troth,  there's  no  room 
for  um.  The  divil  a  one  can  git  in  there  any  hoo.  Its 
brim  full.  Its  murther  to  turn  these  poour  craytures  out  o' 
doors  to  stharve.  May  the  hooly  mither  remimber  them  ! 
They  are  cruel  bastes,  the  landlords,  begorra,  and  I'm  bould 
to  say  it  ov  them." 

A  little  farther  on  the  country  improves,  and  we  passed 
the  elegant  seat  of  a  Mr.  Blennerhasset.  I  remembered  the 
name,  as  one  associated  with  another  in  our  country,  made 
notorious  by  the  basest  acts  that  ever  disgraced  the  annals 
of  depravity  and  crime,  in  high  life ;  and  also  by  the  elegant 
speech  of  one  of  our  most  distinguished  orators,  who  asked 
"  Who  is  Blennerhasset  ?"  Whether  it  was  from  this  part 
of  Erin,  that  the  distinguished  exile  came  to  a  beautiful 
island  in  the  Ohio,  which  still  bears  his  name,  I  did  not 
learn.  But  the  remembrance  was  awakened  by  the  men- 
tion of  the  name  of  the  proprietor  of  this  villa,  which,  for 
rural  elegance,  compares  favorably  with  that  of  his  fellow- 
countryman  before  alluded  to. 

Still  farther,  we  passed  a  large  distillery  standing  back 
from  the  road,  near  a  handsome  grove.  This  is  another 
of  the  fountains  of  wrong,  whose  streams  spread  poverty 
and  crime  all  over  the  island,  and  reduce  this  poor  people 
still  lower  in  degradation.  Every  where  the  traveler  sees 
sign  boards  over  doors,  with  the  ominous  words,  "  Licensed 
to  sell  spirituous  liquors,  and  beer,  and  tobacco."  The  ex- 
cise tax  is  one  of  the  heaviest  burdens  upon  the  land, 
though  it  is  indirectly  levied,  and  voluntarily  paid.  It  is 
like  paying  the  man  who  abuses  us — "  being  hanged  and 
paying  a  forty  shilling" — purchasing  the  cause  of  suffering 
and  shame.    Still  the  government  carries  on  an  indirect 


Tit  A  LEE. 


161 


traffic  which  it  knows  to  be  pernicious,  lends  it  its  sanc- 
tion, and,  for  a  miserable  fee,  protects  particular  persons  in 
the  monopoly  of  making  all  the  drunkards  in  the  country. 
Is  not  the  government  "  particeps  criminis"  to  all  the  evils 
which  result  from  the  whisky  traffic  ?  How  can  it  es- 
cape ? 

This  is  a  grave  matter,  and  deserves  consideration.  This 
may  not  be  the  place  to  discuss  it,  but  I  could  not  forbear 
the  allusion,  for  the  evils  are  too  obvious  to  escape  the  no- 
tice of  the  most  careless  observer.  The  systems  of  legis- 
tion  are  undergoing  great  improvements,  and  a  growing 
philanthropy  seeks,  by  wholesome  enactments,  to  dissuade 
from  crime,  in  order  to  prevent  its  punishment.  The  doc- 
trine of  avoidance  daily  gains  importance  in  the  minds  of 
wise  and  judicious  law-givers,  and,  it  is  hoped,  will,  some 
day,  be  so  well  understood  that  the  evils  which  now  afflict 
this  country,  and  most  others,  will  be  taken  out  of  the  way, 
that  men  may  do  themselves  and  the  community  no 
harm. 

T  R  A  L  E  E. 

Tralee  is  situated  in  the  bottom  of  a  delightful  valley, 
about  a  mile  from  the  head  of  a  small  inlet,  which  sets  in 
from  the  bay  of  the  same  name,  with  which  it  is  connected 
by  a  ship  channel  of  recent  construction.  The  hills  on  the 
north  rise  in  gentle  undulations  ;  but  on  the  south,  stretch- 
ing off  to  the  west,  is  a  range  of  abrupt  hills,  covered 
with  brown  heather,  and  dotted  with  white  cabins  and 
patches  of  tilled  ground  far  up  towards  their  summits. 
The  town  itself  shows  many  signs  of  thrift  I  had  not  ex- 
pected to  see,  in  this  part  of  the  country.  Some  of  the 
streets  are  spacious  and  regularly  laid  out,  and  many  houses 
are  new  and  handsome,  and  the  grounds  about  them  are 
tastefully  decorated.  A  fair  proportion  of  the  inhabitants 
are  well  dressed  and  genteel  in  their  manners. 

I  noticed  many  very  handsome  women  sitting  by  their 

14* 


102 


A   SCEX  E   OF  HORROR. 


windows,  reading,  Walking  in  the  streets,  or  present  in  the 
church.  I  was  surprised  at  such  marks  of  refinement,  so 
unlike  the  character  of  the  people  we  have  seen  since 
leaving  Cork.  I  am  sorry  to  be  compelled  to  add,  however, 
that  we  also  saw  specimens  of  destitution,  and  misery,  more 
horrid  than  any  before  described. 

In  one  place  we  saw  an  old  woman  lying  on  a  sort 
of  bed,  which  had  been  made  of  old  rags,  upon  some  boxes, 
by  the  side  of  a  yard  fence.  Two  sticks  were  stuck  in  the 
ground,  on  the  top  of  which  was  placed  an  old  door,  the 
other  side  resting  on  the  fence.  This  formed  her  only 
shelter.  A  ragged  quilt  was  spread  over  her,  which  she 
wrapped  closer  about  her  as  we  came  near.  A  dirty  cap 
was  on  her  head,  beneath  it  her  shriveled,  cadaverous  face, 
faintly  tinged  with  a  hectic  fever,  one  hand,  withered  to  a 
skeleton,  lay  by  her  cheek  on  the  coarse  pillow  of  straw, 
which  must  have  been  gathered  from  the  stable  near  by. 
Close  to  her  sat  a  middle  aged,  and  more  decently  dressed 
female,  who  might  have  been  her  daughter.  She  begged 
of  us,  in  the  name  of  God,  of  the  blessed  Savior,  and  the 
Holy  Virgin ;  in  strong  words  which  seemed  familiar  to 
her,  bartering  freely  the  rewards  of  heaven,  for  one  poor 
ha'-penny,  for  the  sick,  and  dying  woman.  The  old  lady 
muttered  some  words  in  answer  to  our  inquiries,  which 
were  scarcely  intelligible ;  indicating,  however,  that  it 
was  the  "  will  of  God,"  and  apparently  trying  to  submit,  as 
well  as  she  could,  to  what  she  seemed  to  regard  a  dire 
necessity.  One  or  two  younger  women,  and  some  small 
children,  gathered  around  us,  perfect  pictures  of  destitution, 
the  most  abject  and  loathsome.  It  was  impossible  for  us  to 
contemplate  this  scene  of  misery.  We  had  not  nerve  to 
listen  to  their  tale  of  wo.  What  we  saw  was  enough — too 
much  almost,  for  human  credulity. 

It  was  more,  by  far,  than  we  believed  possible  in  a  Chris- 
tian land ;  in  a  town  of  twelve  thousand  inhabitants,  and 
the  capital  of  Kerry  county,  close  by  the  elegant  mansions 
of  opulent  merchants  and  landholders,  where  fashion  and 


AN  ANOMALY. 


163 


luxury  make  a  fair  display ;  and  only  a  few  rods  from 
churches  of  various  denominations,  where  God  is  profess- 
edly worshipped,  in  the  name  of  the  merciful  Redeemer, 
who  gave  it  as  a  witness  of  the  divinity  of  his  mission, 
that  "  the  poor  have  the  Gospel  preached  to  them and 
made  the  standard  of  acceptance  to  the  honors  he  came  to 
bestow,  "  I  was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave  me  meat ;  thirsty, 
and  ye  gave  me  drink  ;  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me  ;  a  stran- 
ger, and  ye  took  me  in  ;  I  was  sick,  and  ye  visited  me 
assuring  them,  that  inasmuch  as  they  had  done  it  unto  one 
of  the  least  of  his  brethren,  they  had  done  it  unto  him. 

Mark  our  further  astonishment,  when,  as  we  turned 
away  from  this  place,  we  saw  posted  up,  close  by,  and  in 
many  other  places  about  the  town,  notices  of  a  sermon 
and  a  collection  for  that  day,  to  take  place  in  the  Methodist 
church,  in  aid  of  "  Foreign  Missions."  My  God  !  thought 
I,  is  it  come  to  this,  that  these  poor  creatures — thy  children 
— are  to  be  laid  on  boards  in  the  street,  and  left  to  starve, 
while  christians  are  called  upon,  in  the  name  of  religion, 
and  the  hopes  of  heaven,  to  give  their  substance  to  help 
convert  the  heathen  ?  How  strangely  is  the  Gospel  of  thy 
Son  interpreted!  How  singularly  are  its  commands  ap- 
plied !  Is  this  the  evidence  of  a  living,  saving  faith  ?  the 
working  Of  that  charity  without  which  we  are  nothing? 
Why  will  the  wise  in  their  generation  be  sticklers  about 
dogmas  and  forms  of  worship,  while  the  masses  pine  in 
ignorance,  and  die  in  beggary,  for  lack  of  true  knowledge  ? 
Here  is  a  prolific  soil,  a  genial  climate,  and  every  physical 
ability  which  a  bountiful  God  could  bestow,  and  yet  what 
heart-rending  scenes  of  starvation  and  misery  !  what  wails 
of  oppression !  What  appalling  horrors  ;  what  stoic  in- 
difference on  the  part  of  the  better — some  times  the  reli- 
gious, portion  of  the  community ;  what  inhuman  neglect  on 
the  part  of  government,  which  pretends  to  exercise  royal 
protection  over  her  colonies ! 

We  turned  from  this  horrid  picture,  and  went  away  to 
seek  some  object  to  divert  our  minds,  and  relieve  us  from 


1(54 


A   TROUBLESOME  QUESTION. 


the  painful  feelings  which  had  overwhelmed  us.  We  did 
not  succeed.  The  elegance  of  some  of  the  public  build- 
ings, the  court-house,  the  church,  the  Catholic  chapels,  the 
meeting  houses  of  Presbyterians  and  Methodists,  the  hos- 
pitals, the  Union  work-house,  the  infantry  barracks,  the 
green  park,  the  fine  bay — nothing  could  eradicate  the  im- 
pressions of  that  wretched  family,  which  inhumanity  suf- 
fered to  remain  in  the  open  street,  under  circumstances 
which  appealed  so  forcibly  to  every  generous  and  Christian 
feeling  for  sympathy  and  relief.  More  than  once  I  turned 
to  go  back  and  cut  short  my  means  of  traveling,  by  con- 
tributing sufficient  to  make  them  all  comfortable.  But 
then  I  felt  what  an  insufficient  thing  is  individual  charity, 
where  there  is  so  much  poverty  and  suffering.  I  cannot 
avert  the  evil,  turn  back  the  tide,  or  check  the  streams 
which  are  swelling  constantly  the  flood  of  pauperism 
already  spread  so  widely  over  this  land.  The  root  is 
deeper  than  I  can  reach,  and  useless  is  the  effort  of  a  stran- 
ger to  do  more  than  give  a  drop  of  comfort  as  he  passes  by. 

So  I  tried  to  stifle  the  breathings  of  what  little  benevo- 
lence had  not  been  steeled  to  indifference  by  the  shameless 
beggary  we  had  already  been  subjected  to.  The  effort 
was  vain,  for  that  and  other  like  pictures  haunt  me  still ; 
and  by  no  other  principle  than  that  a  man's  own  is  at  his 
disposal,  and  judgment  does  not.  justify  an  indiscriminate 
bestowment  of  his  temporal  possessions.  Of  course,  the 
history  of  the  past,  the  philosophy  of  our  political  and  so- 
cial economy,  the  doctrines  and  precepts  of  our  pulpits, 
the  conduct  of  Christians,  the  judgment  and  prudent  calcu- 
lation of  our  heads,  all  join  in  this  opinion  upon  this  subject ; 
but  still  the  heart  demurs — it  will  not  rest  satisfied.  There 
are  deep  feelings  which  come  welling  up  at  the  sight  of 
such  miseries,  which  relax  the  tight  cords  of  all  our  sys- 
tems, and  make  us  pitiful  and  sad — unless  we  have  the 
means  and  disposition  to  afford  relief.  And  this  feeling  is 
not  relieved  by  the  fact  that  one  is  in  the  possession  of  eve- 
ry desired  comfort  himself,  which  he  claims  as  the  reward 


A   SOURCE   OF  TROUBLE. 


165 


of  his  own  industry  and  prudence.  The  heart  will  be  sat- 
isfied by  no  such  logic,  but  continues  clamorous  for  the  ex- 
hibition of  sympathy,  and  a  willingness  to  share  an  other's 
wo,  and  help,  by  every  practical  means,  to  obtain  relief. 

The  traveler's  soul  is  often  imbittered  by  such  scenes  of 
degradation  and  misery.  The  splendid  palaces  of  kings 
and  noblemen,  the  exquisite  beauty  of  royal  galleries  of 
art,  the  bibliothekes  of  wisdom,  and  even  the  grandeur  of 
natural  scenery,  the  most  powerful  antidote  of  all,  are  in- 
adequate to  erase  from  the  memory  such  pictures  of  misery 
as  one  sees  in  Ireland.  While  I  write,  the  endearments 
and  comforts  of  home,  the  general  prosperity  of  friends  and 
country,  and  the  reflection,  in  the  most  favorable  light,  that 
I  gave  some  small  expressions  of  sympathy,  can  not.  still 
the  warfare  in  my  soul,  that  there  is  a  wrong,  a  great  and 
crying  guilt  some  where,  for  which  a  fearful  requisition 
shall  be  made.  The  responsibility  can  not  rest  on  the  mere 
passer-by  ;  and  yet,  as  one  among  men  I  feel  it.  I  had  not 
means  to  give,  nor  power  to  correct ;  but  I  had  a  heart  to 
feel — but  what  is  feeling,  to  hungry  mouths  and  grieving 
hearts  ?  It  is  bread  and  clothes  they  need,  and  a  chance 
to  do.  more  than  prayers  !  Still  there  is  a  power  in  sym- 
pathy, a  virtue  in  prayer,  which  blend  with  those  deeper 
wants  than  worldly  famine  can  reach,  or  any  phase  of  ab- 
stract theology  satisfy.  A  penny  bestowed  with  such  a 
grace,  brings  more  real  comfort  than  the  cold  charity  of 
half- a- crown. 

It  is  not  so  much  to  relieve,  as  to  remedv  an  evil.  The 
first  is  temporary,  and  as  such,  may  be  useful  in  aiding  a 
permanent  cure.  Ireland's  appeal  is  to  the  world.  Eng- 
land is  deaf,  and  the  church  is  recreant.  From  the  world, 
relief  must  come — from  America  in  particular,  for  no  other 
has  room  for  them.  That  is  the  country  of  her  hope. 
Thither  the  starved  and  dying  direct  their  glassy  eyes, 
with  as  ardent  devotion  and  hope  as  Jew  ever  prayed  to- 
wards Jerusalem,  or  Moslem  towards  the  tomb  of  his 
Prophet.    Shall  the  gateways  to  our  immeasurable  prairies, 


L66 


DIFFICULTY   OF   I MPRO  VEM 1JNT. 


so  beautiful  in  their  wildness,  and  so  productive  under  the 
poorest  cultivation,  be  shut  against  them,  and  they  be  left 
to  famish  under  the  yoke  of  the  oppressor  ? 

We  must  not  object  because  they  are  poor,  and  ignorant, 
and  superstitious.  These  are  reasons  why  we  should  re- 
ceive and  adopt  them,  that  we  may  do  them  good.  We 
wish  they  were  better,  wiser,  neater,  more  enterprising,  and 
less  suspicious.  They  are  not,  and  the  choice  is  to  take  them 
as  they  are,  with  the  hope  that  they  will  forget  their  coun- 
try and  their  habits,  and  become  naturalized  by  coming  up 
to  our  standard,  without  trying  to  drag  us  down  to  theirs  ; 
or  else  to  leave  them  here,  to  fester  in  their  own  corrup- 
tions. We  regret  that  they  are  so  reluctant  to  make  the 
proper  change  ;  that  they  cluster  about  the  narrow  lanes 
and  purlieus  of  our  cities,  instead  of  dashing  off  into  our 
new  country,  like  the  Germans,  to  improve  waste  land 
which  will  repay  them  well,  and  make  them  rich.  But, 
trained  as  they  have  been,  and  treated  as  they  are,  little 
can  be  expected  of  them.  They  know  no  better,  and  too 
few  seem  disposed  to  teach  them.  There  is  nothing  sys- 
tematical in  their  emigration.  They  have  no  matured  plan  ; 
no  distinct  object,  farther  than  to  get  "  till  Amiriky." 
They  speak  of  it  as  dying  men  speak  of  going  to  heaven 
— believing  the  battle  will  be  fought  and  the  victory  won 
when  they  get  there,  and  a  feast  of  fat  things  in  preparation 
for  them.  They  are  directed  by  instinct,  more  like  birds 
of  passage  than  by  well  informed  judgment,  like  men  of 
reason. 

We  passed  along  a  narrow  street,  bordered  by  low,  dirty 
houses  ;  the  front  rooms  used  for  meat  stalls,  as  well  as  for 
fish  and  vegetable  markets.  They  were  open,  and,  here 
and  there,  were  suspended  quarters  of  lamb,  pieces  of  veal, 
while  standing  about  were  baskets  of  fish,  some  potatoes 
and  turnips,  and  any  quantity  of  young  cabbage.  In  the 
same  room  with  the  marketing  were  the  family,  beds  and 
domestic  utensils — what  there  were  of  them — scattered 
about  the  floor.    Many  persons  were  standing  about,  con- 


IMPORTANCE   OF  EDUCATION'. 


167 


versing,  but  none  appeared  to  be  purchasing  meat  or 
other  articles.  Continuing  our  ramble  we  saw,  what  is  no 
uncommon  thing,  pigs  eating  from  troughs,  in  the  rooms 
where  the  family  stayed — they  could  hardly  be  said  to  live 
— called  in  there  for  protection  against  the  large  and  more 
greedy  swine  squealing  outside.  In  one  street,  numerous 
specimens  of  this  kind  of  house-keeping  were  exhibited,  all 
possessing  the  same  general  characteristics  of  poverty  and 
social  degradation. 

We  stepped  into  one  of  the  Catholic  chapels.  The  in- 
troductory service  was  over,  and  a  brother  was  addressing 
the  few  in  attendance  on  the  subject  of  education.  His 
remarks  were  excellent.  He  said  a  great  majority  of  the 
common  people,  above  fifteen,  can  neither  read  nor  write  ; 
few  women  can  read  their  prayers.  This  is  wrong.  Their 
condition  can  never  be  improved  so  long  as  things  remain 
so ;  the  people  must  be  taught ;  the  children  must  all  go  to 
school,  if  they  do  nothing  else-*-and  much  more  to  the  same 
effect.  He  enforced  his  remarks  as  one  having  authority, 
with  powerful  appeals  to  their  sense  of  duty ;  an  augury 
of  better  times.  I  felt  relieved.  The  sermon  removed  an 
oppressive  burthen  from  my  mind.  I  have  wondered  the 
pulpit — such  a  powerful  engine,  especially  in  the  hands  of 
the  Catholic  clergy — has  not  been  devoted  to  the  popular 
good.  I  know  there  is  a  great  responsibility  resting  upon 
those  who  are  believed  to  speak  by  authority  from  heaven, 
and  who  are  obeyed  without  inquiry ;  but  I  feared  they  had 
not  done  their  duty.  The  exhortations  and  commands  of 
that  friar  proved  that  all  are  not  unaware  of  one  of  the 
causes  of  their  country's  disgrace. 

He  was  pleading  for  the  parish  school,  and  alluded  some- 
what severely  to  the  national  schools.  I  regretted  that,  but 
still  rejoiced  on  the  whole,  for  knowledge  in  any  form  is 
better  than  ignorance.  Could  Ireland  enjoy,  for  a  single 
generation,  the  common  schools  of  some  of  our  states,  free 
from  sectarian  influence,  and  open  to  all  classes,  a  complete 
revolution  would  follow,  in  all  the  affairs  and  prospects  of 


168 


THE   BAEONIAL  CASTLE. 


that  country.  It  may  be  the  fear  of  this  that  prevents  their 
establishment. 

Leaving  the  church,  we  strolled  down  the  main  street, 
which  is  wide  and  handsome,  lined  with  stores  and  dwell- 
ings, many  of  which  were  large  and  elegant,  along  the 
margin  of  the  canal,  whose  sides  are  of  hewn  stone,  to 
the  little  village  of  Blennerville — the  part  of  Tralee  from 
which  the  smaller  class  of  vessels  pass  up ;  the  larger  ones, 
owing  to  a  lack  of  water,  remaining  at  anchor  in  the  ha- 
ven, a  mile  or  so  distant.  From  the  bridge,  at  the  head  of 
this  inlet,  is  spread  out  a  scene  of  rare  beauty  and  richness. 

Several  schooners  were  coming  up  the  bay  in  the  light 
breeze  of  the  evening,  whose  white  canvas  contrasted 
finely  with  the  heathery  hills  beyond.  Quite  a  company 
had  collected  from  the  town,  along  the  shore,  to  enjoy  the 
tranquillity  and  beauty  of  the  setting  sun.  They  appeared 
orderly,  social,  and  happy.  Judging  from  them,  and 
all  that  could  there  be  seen,  one  would  never  suppose 
there  were  such  pictures  of  wretchedness  as  I  have  de- 
scribed, so  near  at  hand.  How  little  does  the  cheerful  or 
painted  countenance  tell  of  the  canker  that  is  gnawing  at 
the  vitals.  The  hectic  cheek  makes  the  consumptive  ap- 
pear beautiful  to  the  unpractised  eye. 

We  returned  to  the  town  through  a  long,  narrow  street 
of  low  huts,  in  which  the  pigs  were  eating,  as  before  de- 
scribed, the  inmates  sitting  in  the  same  room,  and  the  little 
children  playing  about  with  apparent  familiarity.  Not  far  off 
is  the  old  castle  of  the  Desmonds,  one  of  the  powerful  fami- 
lies so  famed  in  the  feuds  which  formerly  distracted  this  part 
of  Ireland,  during  the  time  of  the  McCarthys,  O'Sullivans, 
and  O'Donoghues.  On  the  overthrow  of  that  family,  the 
town,  castle,  and  surrounding  lands  were  bestowed,  as  a 
royal  gift,  upon  the  family  of  Sir  Edward  Denny,  from 
whom  it  has  descended  to  the  present  proprietor,  who  has 
changed  the  castle  into  an  elegant  mansion,  and  derives 
a  vast  income  from  the  lease  of  lots,  and  other  privileges, 
which  have  quadrupled  within  a  few  years  past. 


A  SERMON. 


169 


Passing  a  large  church,  of  modern  erection,  we  stepped 
in  to  listen  to  the  evening  service,  which  had  already  com- 
menced. A  woman,  serving  as  sexton,  conducted  us  to  a 
seat.  The  building  is  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  and  verv 
spacious.  Not  more  that  seventy-five  persons  were  in  at- 
tendance, though  fifteen  hundred  could  be  accommodated 
comfortably.  The  preacher,  well  dressed  in  silk  surplice, 
delivered  a  sermon,  devoted  to  the  explication  of  the  hack- 
neyed doctrine  of  "  Election  and  Free-will,"  which  he  left 
as  he  found  it.  He  argued  that  "a  free  and  full  salvation 
has  been  offered,  and  is  made  possible  for  the  world,  for  all 
men  : — whosoever  will,  may  have  it — the  gospel  is  adapted 
to  man's  fallen  nature — but  man  can  do  nothing  of  himself ; 
— all  is  of  grace — God  does  every  thing — man  can  not 
help  God,  he  can  not  help  himself,  for  St.  Paul  says  to  the 
Gallatians,  "  If  ye  do  part,  and  God  does  part,  Christ  is  be- 
come of  none  effect  to  you,  his  promise  is  vain." 

These  expressions  I  noted  at  the  time,  and  commented 
upon  them  as  I  went  home,  thinking  of  the  old  sick  woman, 
I  had  seen  in  the  street,  and  a  hundred  men  or  more,  stand- 
ing along  the  middle  of  it  with  spades  in  their  hands,  like  a 
company  of  raw  soldiers  on  drill,  waiting  to  be  engaged 
the  next  day.  What  can  these  people  know  or  care 
about  the  abstractions  and  figments  of  creeds  ?  and  how 
are  they  benefited  by  such  kind  of  preaching  ?  They  al- 
readv  act,  and  talk  as  if  thev  believed  thev  were  driven  into 
their  desperate  condition  by  a  fatal  necessity,  against  which 
it  is  useless  to  contend,  and  from  the  miseries  and  disabili- 
ties of  which,  there  is  no  deliverance  by  any  effort  of  their 
own.  After  begging  most  urgently,  and  presenting  their 
wrongs  and  sufferings,  in  the  most  pathetic  manner,  they 
will  always  attach  a  supplementary  expression  of  their  faith, 
that  "  it  is  the  will  of  God,"  and  submission  is  their  only 
duty. 

The  expounder  of  English  state-religion,  might  have 
been  correct,  or  he  might  not,  in  his  peculiar  views  ;  but 
one  thing  is  quite  certain,  that  all  such  preaching  will  avail 


170 


MORALITY   BETTER   THAN  CONTROVERSY. 


little  for  the  relief  and  regeneration  of  Ireland,  without  a 
large  mixture  of  those  simple  truths,  and  duties  so  frequent- 
ly and  forcibly  inculcated  in  the  teachings  of  the  New 
Testament,  but  so  much  neglected  in  modern  preach- 
ing. It  is  a  cause  of  much  regret,  that  the  pulpit  should  be 
so  constantly  devoted  to  the  discussion  of  disputed  points 
of  theology,  which  have  been  argued  by  the  ablest  minds, 
for  centuries,  with  no  nearer  approach  to  any  thing  like  a 
satisfactory  adjustment  of  the  difficulties,  than  in  the  days 
of  St.  Athanasius,  Luther,  and  Calvin  ;  while  the  weightier 
matters  of  religion,  which  relate  to  the  immediate  wants 
and  ability  of  the  sinful,  and  suffering,  are  most  wofully 
neglected.  The  cry  is  for  immediate  relief,  for  practical 
knowledge,  for  counsel  and  comfort,  under  present  and 
pressing  necessities.  And,  if  there  is  any  virtue  in  the  sys- 
tem adopted  by  the  "  Friend  of  Sinners,"  and  pursued  by 
his  faithful  Apostles,  this  good  can  not  be  obtained  without 
first  entering  into  subtle  and  ambiguous  arguments,  and 
disquisitions,  upon  the  abstruse  subjects  of  theology,  or  at- 
tempting to  settle  every  point  in  controversy.  It  is  worse 
than  giving  a  course  of  lectures  on  anatomy  over  a  man 
with  a  leg-out-of-joint ;  or  a  treatise  on  dentistry  to  a  man 
with  a  tooth-ache. 

Better  is  it,  in  my  humble  apprehension,  to  follow  out  the 
suggestions  of  benevolence,  to  engage,  at  once,  in  those 
works  which  will  afford  present  relief,  and  qualify  the  mind 
to  receive  and  appreciate  new  and  profounder  truths,  and 
estimate  more  fully  the  principles  of  good  action.  "  If  any 
man  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine."  All 
Christendom  is  agitated  with  bickerings  of  sects  and  parties, 
about  forms  and  dogmas,  to  no  profit ;  while  the  people  die 
for  lack  of  knowledge.  Political  interference  has  been  in- 
voked, and  the  power  of  state  has  often  been  prostituted  to 
the  regulation  of  matters  of  opinion,  for  which  a  man  is 
responsible  to  God  only.  The  consequence  of  all  this  is 
seen  in  the  condition  of  the  people,  wherever  such  con- 
trol is  attempted.    And  the  oldest  and  most  powerful  sects 


PRACTICE   BETTER   THAN  THEORY". 


171 


give  the  saddest  exhibitions  of  their  abuse  of  power  and 
privilege. 

Behold  Italy ;  or  sit  here  at  my  window,  and  look  out 
from  the  "  Royal  Hibernia  Hotel,"  upon  that  crowd  of 
ragged,  dirty,  ignorant  men,  who  are  collected  in  the  market 
place,  on  this  beautiful  Sunday  evening,  with  their  imple- 
ments of  husbandry,  anxious  to  be  engaged  for  to-morrow, 
at  the  starving  rate  of  a  6d.  a  day,  which  they  must  earn 
or  starve. 

See  those  women  in  tattered  garments,  with  haggard 
faces,  and  that  gang  of  smutty  children,  with  bare  legs,  and 
half-naked  bodies,  crawling  about  like  a  race  of  inferior  be- 
ings, more  degraded  in  their  appearance,  and  less  cared  for 
than  the  negroes  of  Georgia.  Think  of  that  houseless 
family  before  described,  and  then  tell  me  what  these  churches 
are  doing  to  remove  the  curse  from  this  land ;  what  good 
comes  from  the  discussion  of  the  doctrines  of  divine  sove- 
reignty, human  agency,  apostolic  succession,  and  such  opin- 
ions as  divide  and  distract  the  church,  alienate  the  hearts 
of  kindred,  and  array  one  portion  of  community  against  the 
other. 

What  do  these  people  know  or  care — what  can  they  know 
about  these  metaphysical  and  ecclesiastical  questions  ? 
They  are  more  concerned  about  "  praties"  than  dogmas,  and 
would  give  more  for  a  pot  of  "  stir-a-bout,"'  than  for  all 
the  creeds  from  Athanasius  down  to  Jo.  Smith.  Their 
wants  are  immediate  and  pressing.  They  have  neither 
time,  taste,  nor  talent,  to  think  about  such  matters.  They 
need  most,  the  hand  of  some  good  shepherd,  to  feed  and 
comfort  them,  to  lead  them  into  green  pastures,  and  beside 
still  waters,  some  voice  to  plead  their  cause  in  the  counsels  of 
the  nation,  to  procure  the  removal  of  the  grievous  burdens, 
under  which  so  many  stagger  and  fall,  and  all  the  land 
groans  in  bondage.  They  need  the  devotion  of  an  Oberlin, 
who  shall  teach  their  children  to  read,  and  their  men  to 
work. 

u  To  work  ?"    What  work  is  there  for  them  to  do  ? 


172 


DIFFICULTIES. 


They  are  willing  and  anxious  to  work,  fourteen  hours  a  day 
for  a  6d.  and  at  any  kind  of  service.  But  this  is  denied 
them.  There  is  no  chance  for  an  Oberlin  in  Ireland.  They 
can  not  till  the  sides  of  these  rocky  hills,  lest  they  disturb 
the  cherished  deer  of  a  London  sportsman  ;  they  must  not 
root  out  a  single  bramble  or  bunch  of  heather,  to  plant  a 
hill  of  potatoes,  lest  they  scare  the  rabbits  of  the  noble  pro- 
prietor, who  is,  perhaps,  a  lordly,  sporting  prelate  of  the 
church  ! 

There  is  a  work  the  church  can  do,  to  which  every  true 
christian  ought  to  lend  a  helping  hand.  These  people  can 
be  instructed  to  read  and  write  ;  to  keep  themselves  clean, 
to  I  can  not  finish  this  sentence,  I  see  so  many  dif- 
ficulties rising  up,  one  after  another,  each  succeeding  one 
more  formidable  than  the  last,  that,  like  these  depressed 
creatures,  I  yield  in  despair.  How  can  these  people  keep 
clean  in  their  floorless,  smoky  hovels  ?  Their  naked  feet 
tread  upon  the  cold  ground,  and  they  have  neither  chairs 
nor  bedsteads.  Teach  them  industry !  They  have  no 
chance  to  exercise  such  functions,  if  acquired.  Submission 
is  the  only  practical  lesson  they  can  understand.  Of  that 
they  have  a  most  perfect  apprehension.  If  there  is  any 
virtue  in  that,  the  poor  Irish  are  the  most  virtuous  people 
on  earth  ;  for  extremest  lessons  have  been  given  them,  and 
they  maintain  the  same  dogged  stupidity,  hugging  the  fet- 
ters which  enslave  them,  till  death  or  expatriation  releases 
their  grasp,  and  sets  them  free. 

But  here  is  another  subject  for  reflection.  The  cham- 
bermaid has  just  come  into  our  room  to  light  our  candles, 
and  arrange  our  beds.  She  is  a  sturdy,  decently  dressed 
girl  of  twenty,  or  twenty-five.  W e  engaged  her  in  conversa- 
tion, that  we  might  learn  something  of  the  condition  of  this 
class  of  people.  She  seemed  quite  intelligent,  and  answered 
frankly  all  the  questions  we  asked  her.  She  said  she  did  all 
the  chamber-work  and  washing,  finding  the  soap  and  can- 
dles for  the  rooms,  for  £G  a  year,  (830)  and  the  "  chances," 
some  £2  more.  She  also  boarded  herself,  except  her  dinner, 


SERVANTS. 


173 


which  was  iriven  her  at  the  hotel.  Her  "  chances,"  some 
days,  amounted  to  two  or  three  shillings,  but  frequently  she 
got  nothing,  for,  unless  the  travelers  gave  it  to  her  directly, 
she  rarely  ever  received  any  thing.  She  was,  therefore 
obliged  to  keep  watch  and  see  when  they  were  about  to 
leave,  or  else  she  was  pretty  sure  to  fail,  as  they  would 
either  give  nothing,  or  the  chief  servant,  or  the  keeper 
would  keep  all. 

This  system  of  hotel-keeping  is  exceedingly  annoying. 
A  man  pays  his  bill — all  that  is  demanded  for  every  item 
he  has  had — and  when  about  to  leave,  the  waiter  demands  a 
fee,  and,  if  no  one  is  about,  takes  for  himself,  the  chamber- 
maid, and  "  boots  ;"  and  if  he  is  not  off  at  once,  the  cham- 
bermaid will  be  at  him,  and  boots  will  follow  him  to  the 
coach-office  and  become  clamorous,  refusing  to  believe  that 
the  chief-waiter  has  already  received  his  portion.  The 
servants  have  no  confidence  in  each  other.  They  have 
their  grades,  and  poor  boots  being  lowest,  is  always 
the  most  suspicious  and  clamorous.  If  he  finds  a  traveler 
has  left  and  given  nothing,  he  will  chase  him,  and  plead 
and  threaten  in  behalf  of  both  the  others,  and  whatever  he 
gets  he  will  keep  to  himself,  be  it  much  or  little.  To  him 
it  is  lawful  plunder.  This  is  all  wrong,  and  the  source  of 
much  unpleasantness  to  the  traveler,  especially  to  one  who 
has  not  been  accustomed  to  such  a  system  of  exactions. 

The  usual  charges  are  higher  than  we  pay  at  home,  and 
then  comes  this  beggary  on  the  score  of  right — a  demand 
for  services  rendered.  The  natives  complain  of  this  evil  as 
much  as  Americans,  but  they  understand  better  how  to  get 
along  at  a  cheap  rate,  and  without  trouble.  Another  rea- 
son is.  the  poor  people  think  Americans  are  not  only  rich, 
but  generous,  and  as  we  are  obliged  to  enter  our  names  and 
residences  on  the  books  of  the  clerk,  the  servants  at  once 
begin  to  "  calculate  their  chances."  They  set  the  price 
high,  and  are  not  willing  to  be  disappointed.  Necessity 
knows  no  law.    Their  poverty  urges  them  to  press  their 


174 


A  REFLECTION. 


demands  as  long  as  there  is  a  "  chance"  left,  in  utter  defi- 
ance of  all  rules  of  justice  and  decorum. 

It  is  half-past  ten,  though  still  light.  All  is  quiet  in  the 
streets.  The  moon  shines  softly,  and  casts  the  shadows  of 
the  buildings  along  the  streets.  1  hear  the  solemn  tramp 
of  the  lone  policeman,  which  sounds  dolefully  to  a  spirit, 
saddened,  like  mine,  by  the  scenes  of  the  past  day.  What 
a  Sabbath  this  has  been !  I  have  gazed  on  the  richest 
beauties  of  nature — the  lofty,  rugged  mountains,  piled 
carelessly  together,  reft  with  many  a  gorge  and  glen ;  upon 
the  deep,  tangled  wild- wood,  bordering  the  rocky  shores  of 
the  quiet,  lakes  ;  upon  the  charming  green  fields  and  flower- 
gardens,  and  shaded  walks  ;  upon  the  palaces  of  the  nobles, 
the  low  mud  hovels  of  the  poor ;  the  ruins  of  abbeys, 
castles,  and  convents  ;  upon  the  grotesque  masses  assem- 
bled for  the  worship  of  a  common  Father,  the  Maker  of  all, 
in  the  name  of  the  one  Master  and  Savior,  "  who  tasted 
death  for  every  man  :"  upon  the  new  manifestations  of 
pride,  struggling  in  the  midst  of  poverty,  oppression,  and 
famine,  to  rear  a  gorgeous  temple  made  with  hands ;  upon 
whole  families — decrepit  age,  and  helpless  infancy — house- 
less, friendless,  foodless,  and  in  tatters,  by  the  way-side, 
ready  to  die  of  hunger  and  cold,  in  the  midst  of  wealth, 
fashion,  and  professed  piety  !  What  a  world  is  this  !  What 
scenes  of  horror,  crime,  and  destitution  are  in  it !  Crushed 
hearts,  blasted  hopes,  hungry  mouths,  glazing  eyes !  Oh, 
God,  thou  Merciful  and  Just,  look  down,  at  this  silent  hour, 
and  deal  gently  with  those  still  sleepless  from  pain,  anxiety, 
or  famine,  and  give  protection  to  all.  Hast  thou  no  deliver- 
ance from  these  wrongs  and  miseries,  so  deep,  so  bitter,  so 
vast,  so  ocean-like  ?  Shall  thy  children,  the  work  of  thine 
own  hands,  be  for  ever  wronged,  cheated,  abused  by  sin,  the 
foul  deceiver  and  despoiler  of  the  world  ?  Is  there  no  vir- 
tue in  the  Cross  ? — no  power  of  goodness  left  to  conquer, 
redeem,  and  reconcile  to  the  wise,  and  holy,  and  benevo- 
lent institutions  of  thy  righteous  government  ?  Lift,  then, 
the  heavy  cloud  of  error ;  dispel  the  darkness  of  unbelief, 


CASTLE   GREEN.  175 

and  give  Faith  to  the  children  of  men.  So  shall  thy  laws 
be  obeyed,  and  thy  name  be  honored  on  the  earth. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FROM    TRALEE    TO  LIMERICK. 

Castle  Green. — A  Scene  of  Beggary. — Scenes  of  Misery. — Difficulties  under 
which  the  People  suffer. — The  Cause. — Cashin  Bog. — Listowel. — Tar- 
bert. — Land  Titles. — Middle-men. — Condition  of  Tenants. — A  Dinner. — 
A  Family. — Oppression  of  Landlords. — Emigrants  leaving  Home. — The 
Separation. — Taken  for  an  Englishman. — The  Shannon. — A  Steamboat. — 
The  Passengers. — The  Wrong  of  Vengeance. — An  Ambitious  Mother. — 
A  Minstrel. — Scenery. — Glynn. — Bunrutty. — More  about  Landlords  and 
Small  Farmers. — Squatters. — Social  Evils. — Useless  Agitations. 

May  22. — Rose  at  four  o'clock,  and  took  a  stroll  about 
the  town.  The  sun  was  already  risen,  and  the  people  at 
their  work — those  who  were  so  fortunate  as  to  find  any  thing 
to  do.  We  took  a  look  at  the  extensive  barracks,  and  ad- 
mired the  comfortable  quarters  of  the  soldiers,  who  are 
comparatively  well-fed  and  well-paid  for  idling  away  their 
time,  doing  nothing  but  learning  the  tactics  of  war,  and  thus 
becoming  the  right-arm  of  oppression.  Near  them  is  the 
fever  hospital ;  and,  not  far  off,  the  Union  work-house. 
The  court-house  and  prison  are  in  the  town.  All  these 
buildings,  as  well  as  the  churches,  make  a  fair  show  in 
their  outward  appearance. 

We  entered  the  "  Castle  Green" — a  large  park  and  plea- 
sure grounds  belonging  to  Sir  Edward  Denny,  Bart.,  the 
"  noble  proprietor"  of  all  the  lands  in  this  region — through  a 
private  house,  the  tenant  permitting  us  to  do  so.  A  herd  of 
cows  and  goats  were  feeding  ;  several  men  and  women  were 
engaged  in  milking  them.  A  portion  of  the  extensive  grounds 
are  handsomely  laid  out,  and  beautifully  ornamented  with 
shade  trees,  shrubs,  and  flowers.  Some  years  ago,  Sir  Ed- 
ward was  a  candidate  for  Parliament,  when,  in  his  generous 


176 


A   LITTLE  RETALIATION'. 


hope  of  self-aggrandizement,  he  opened  his  grounds  to  the 
public,  to  the  great  joy  and  comfort  of  the  poor  people, 
who  praised  this  gracious  act  of  condescension  shown  by 
the  £i  noble"  baronet,  and  walked  in  the  shady  bowers  of 
their  almost  royal  patron  ! 

But  this  morsel  did  not  so  sweeten  the  cup  from  which 
they  had  long  drank  as  to  secure  his  election.  He  was  de- 
feated, and  a  man  of  less  pretensions,  and  more  merit,  was 
returned  to  Parliament.  Whereupon  this  little  stream  of 
comfort,  which  had  eked  through  the  thick  shell  of  his 
"  noble*'  selfishness,  was  withered  up,  and  the  gates  have 
ever  since  been  closed  to  all,  except  those  who,  like  our- 
selves, creep  in  some  other  way,  by  permission.  It  is, 
doubtless,  more  profitable  as  a  cow-pasture,  than  as  a  place 
of  resort  for  the  ungrateful  populace. 

There  is  one  comfort  left  to  this  down-trodden  race — the 
sweets  of  vengeance — when  they  vote  against  the  promotion 
of  the  men  who  oppress  them.  Was  suffrage  universal, 
they  would  have  more  frequent  opportunities  to  scatter 
thorns  in  the  paths  of  oppressors. 

Returning  to  the  "  Royal  Hibernia,"  we  found  the  ser- 
vants in  waiting'  each  on  the  look-out  for  himself.  Whv 
should  not  people,  in  their  circumstances,  grow  selfish  ? 
What  but  "  special  grace"  can  keep  them  from  it  ?  We 
gave  Miss  Chambermaid  her  fee.  Of  the  others  we  had 
received  no  service,  so,  in  mathematical  justice,  nothing 
was  the  equivalent.  That  was  no  matter.  We  had  been 
at  the  hotel  over  night,  and  Waiter  and  Boots  had  looked 
at  us.  Must  they  not  be  paid  for  it  ?  How  else  could 
they  live  ? 

Taking  our  sacks  away  from  Boots,  we  crossed  over  to 
the  post-house.  A  single  mail  car  was  to  take  us  to  Tar- 
bert,  on  the  Shannon.  There  were  but  four  seats,  and  two 
were  ensealed  alreadv.  So  one  of  us  must  take  the  "well'* 
— that  is,  sit  upon  the  box  between  the  other  passengers, 
and  ride  backwards,  his  legs  hanging  down  behind,  without 
any  support  for  the  feet — not  a  very  comfortable  position. 


AN    UNFORTUNATE  GIRL. 


177 


A  multitude  of  squalid  creatures.,  such  as  we  have  de- 
scribed at  other  places,  here  presented  themselves,  of  both 
sexes  and  of  all  ages,  seemingly  determined  to  obtain  some- 
thing from  us.  if  importunity  could  extort  it.  So  dense 
was  the  mass  upon  the  side-walks,  that  it  was  with  no 
common  effort  we  could  work  ourselves  through,  aided 
though  we  were  by  the  threats  and  reprimands  of  the 
agent.  Finding  we  were  likely  to  be  overwhelmed,  we 
tried  our  hands  at  sustaining  "  law  and  order."  and  defend- 
ing: our  rights  against  the  indecencies  and  outrages  upon 

«Z3  CD  CD  CD  1 

peaceable  travelers.  We  were  little  more  successful,  at 
first,  than  the  office-keeper,  for  our  voices  were  less  fami- 
liar, and  our  manner  less  boisterous.  But  we  did  not  suc- 
ceed. 

Among  the  crowd  of  beggars  I  noticed  a  young  wo- 
man, not  over  eighteen,  of  very  pretty  appearance  and 
modest  address.  Her  hair  was  combed  smooth  ;  her  dress 
was  poor  and  worn,  but  tidy ;  her  form  was  slender  and 
delicate,  made  so  by  hunger,  and  her  whole  appearance,  un- 
der other  circumstances,  would  have  been  considered  re- 
spectable, if  not  handsome.  She  needed  only  clothes  and 
food  to  make  her.  personally,  beautiful.  She  wrapped  her 
old  shawl  closer  about  her  shoulders,  and  made  several 
efforts,  before  she  had  the  courage  to  beg  of  us  for  a  pennv, 
to  buy  some  bread.  I  never  can  forget  her  manner,  nor 
her  words.  Her  looks  showed  that  she  felt  keenlv  her 
abasement ;  that  nothing  but  the  bitterest  and  most  inexora- 
ble necessity  could  force  her  to  ask  an  aim  ;  and  even  this 
had  not  steeled  her  young  heart  to  shame  and  contempt, 
to  which  she  knew  she  exposed  herself.  Her  voice  qui- 
vered and  died  away  into  a  whisper,  while  large  tears  start- 
ed from  her  soft  blue  eyes,  and  trembled  an  instant  before, 
one  after  another,  they  coursed  down  her  pallid  cheek, 
slightly  tinged  with  the  suffusion  of  what  little  blood  still 
flowed  in  her  veins.  She  wiped  off  the  tears  with  a  corner 
of  her  old  shawl,  and  tried  to  look  composed. 

I  never  felt  the  deep  fountains  of  my  soul  so  moved 


178 


POVERTY  CONTRASTED. 


before.  I  never  had  a  trial  like  this.  Oh,  I  would  give 
more  for  that  prayer  which  lingered  on  those  lips,  before 
it  went  forth  to  heaven,  the  utterance  of  a  pure  and  true 
heart,  than  for  the  studied  words  of  priest  or  bishop  in  the 
rites  of  consecration,  or  at  the  baptismal  font — "  Kind  sir, 
will  ye  give  me  a  ha'-penny,  to  buy  some  bread  for  my 
mither  and  little  sisters,  and  may  heaven  bless  you  and 
keep  you?" 

I  thought  of  my  home,  my  wife,  my  daughters,  and  little 
children  ;  of  the  abundance  of  our  land ;  the  quiet,  and 
comfort,  and  competence  of  our  native  citizens ;  and  I 
wished  this  young  woman  and  her  mother  and  sisters  were 
there.  I  remembered  an  instance  in  my  own  city  which 
appeared  in  strong  contrast. 

A  girl  of  seventeen  came  to  my  house  with  a  note  from 
her  father,  asking  charity  in  the  name  of  a  common  hu- 
manity. I  went  with  her,  and  found  an  intelligent  Irish- 
man of  forty,  who  had  served  several  years  as  a  Lieute- 
nant in  the  British  army,  but  for  love  to  his  family  had  ex- 
changed his  "  commission"  for  land  in  Canada,  which 
proved  to  be  so  wild  and  inhospitable  he  could  not  live 
upon  it.  His  young  wife,  by  a  second  marriage,  was  very 
handsome.  A  son  and  two  daughters,  of  which  the  one 
who  came  for  me  was  the  youngest,  and  an  infant,  con- 
stituted the  family.  They  were  in  an  upper  room  in  Va- 
rick-street,  over  a  dram  shop.  They  had  no  chairs,  no 
bedstead  ;  an  old  chest  or  two,  and  some  clothes  upon  the 
floor  was  all.  It  was  a  cold  December  night,  and  they  had 
no  fuel.  I  thought  that  surpassed  all  imaginable  misery, 
and  was  the  lowest  depth  to  which  a  family  could  be  re- 
duced in  a  christian  land. 

I  had  not  seen  Ireland.  My  ears  had  never  heard  such 
plaintive  cries  as  have  here  reached  them.  And  then  I  felt 
that  there  was  no  real  legalized  oppression,  but  a  chance 
left.  An  effort  would  bring  permanent  relief.  I  saw  a 
hope  for  them,  and  tried  to  awaken  one  in  their  hearts.  I 
can  not  do  it  here.    There  is  no  hope  but  in  death  or  emi- 


TOWARDS   THE  SHANNON. 


179 


gration.  And  I  look  upon  that  young  woman,  so  beautiful 
in  her  degradation,  with  an  anguish  too  deep  for  utterance. 

I  was  glad  when  the  driver  mounted  the  other  end  of 
the  "  well,"  and  cried  out  in  a  coarse  voice,  "  Eyah  !  oout 
of  the  way,  ye  rapscallions,"  and  the  tatterdemalions  scam- 
pered away,  but  still  begged  louder  than  ever.  I  did  actu- 
ally feel  a  relief,  as  if  fetters  had  been  taken  off  my  limbs, 
when  we  were  fairly  clear  of  these  beggars  ;  for  the  chil- 
dren ran  beside  our  carriage  a  long  distance,  entreating  us 
to  give  them  a  ha'  penny,  as  loud  as  they  could  scream. 
Could  I  have  erased  such  events  from  my  memory,  I 
should  suffer  less  sadness  of  heart  when  I  think  of  Tralee 
and  the  beautiful  scenes  about  it. 

For  some  distance  the  road,  which,  like  all  the  main 
roads  in  this  country,  is  excellent,  passes  through  pretty 
and  fertile  fields,  and  then  commences  to  wind  up  the  as- 
cent of  the  Stack  hills,  by  a  steep  and  circuitous  route,  till 
it  reaches  the  summit,  from  which  there  is  a  fine  view  of 
the  whole  surrounding  country.  In  the  bottom  of  the 
beautiful  valley,  extendins  from  Castleisland  is  the  town  and 
harbor  of  Tralee,  the  waters  of  Ballyheigue  Bay,  spread 
out  towards  the  sea.  From  the  opposite  shore  the  Bran- 
don hills  rise  abruptly,  dipping  into  the  Atlantic  on  the  west, 
and  stretching  eastward  to  the  deep,  narrow  valley  which 
divides  them  from  the  Slievemish,  through  which  runs  the 
road  to  the  head  of  Dinsle  bav.  Then  the  latter  ranse  ex- 
tends  farther  to  the  east,  over  which  are  caught  glimpses 
of  the  peaks  about  Killarney.  In  the  valley  before  us  are 
several  beautiful  seats  of  the  sentry,  which  would  add 
more  to  the  beauty  of  the  landscape  were  there  not  so 
many  evidences  of  the  squalid  misery  which  abounds  among 
the  common  people.  Nature  has  made  it  a  sweet  and 
lovely  vale,  but  man  has  sadly  disfigured  it. 

Before  us  a  broad  expanse  of  slightly  undulating  country 
extends  north,  towards  the  hills  and  headlands  about  the 
mouth  of  the  Shannon.  This  region  is  more  bleak  and 
desolate  than  anv  we  have  vet  seen.    The  soil  itself  is 

9f  J 


180  DESTITUTION. 

poor,  being  .formed  of  extensive  fields  of  bog,  vast  shrubless 
moors,  and  heathy  and  barren  sand  hills,  with  only  here  and 
there  a  narrow  glade  fit  for  cultivation.  The  inhabitants 
are  more  wretched  than  the  country,  surpassing,  in  the 
depth  of  their  degradation,  all  we  have  yet  seen. 

Their  low  huts  made  of  turf,  and  half  covered  with 
thatch,  an  old  ragged  quilt  hung  up  for  a  door ;  the  piles  of 
filth  in  front ;  the  pale,  sickly,  half-starved  children,  some 
with  scarcely  a  rag  to  cover  their  nakedness  ;  the  men  with 
corduroy  breeches,  and  coarse  shirts  all  patched  and  ragged, 
and  a  slouched  hat  drawn  over  their  heads  ;  the  women  in 
nothing  but  tattered,  brown  frocks,  with  cadaverous  faces, 
peeping  from  under  snarled  wads  of  matted  hair,  their  faces, 
hands,  and  feet  streaked  with  dirt,  the  entire  absence  of 
any  thing  like  a  garden,  or  potato  patch  ;  in  short,  every- 
thing exhibits  signs  of  the  utmost  destitution  and  misery. 

We  met  squads  of  men  and  women  going  into  Tralee 
for  what  we  could  not  guess.  They  looked  so  wretched 
and  wo-begone,  that  we  were  frightened  at  their  presence, 
as  they  turned  their  wan  faces  and  haggard  eyes  towards  us. 
There  was  nothing  of  fierceness  in  their  looks  to  terrify  us, 
or  suggest  the  thought  that  they  would  plunder ;  but  such 
a  complete  prostration  of  all  that  is  noble  and  manly,  that 
we  shrunk  from  them  with  a  shudder,  as  when  awakened 
from  a  frightful  dream,  or  startled  from  a  reverie  by  the 
touch  of  some  imaginary  monster  whom  we  know  can  do  us 
no  harm.  We  also  met  several  women,  some  young,  driving 
asses  loaded  with  panniers  of  turf,  which  they  hoped  to 
sell  in  Tralee,  or  which  was  to  pay  for  rent  or  taxes.  They 
were  dressed  like  the  others,  without  hat,  cap,  or  shoes. 

Having  reached  the  summit,  the  driver  halted  for  us  to 
resume  our  seats,  having  walked  for  the  last  mile  or  two. 
Here  a  squad  of  little  children,  stationed  along  the  side  of 
the  road,  with  rags  dangling  about  their  legs  and  arms, 
dashed  towards  the  car  with  pieces  of  lighted  turf,  for  those 
to  light  their  pipes  or  segars  who  chose  to  do  so.  The 
driver  improved  the  opportunity,  and  soon  enveloped  his 


ACCOMMODATIONS   FOR   SMOKERS.  181 

head  in  a  cloud  of  smoke.  With  becoming  condescension, 
he  waited  for  the  passengers  to  follow  his  example.  One 
did  so ;  the  rest  had  no  need.  But  now  came  the  tussle. 
All  scrambled  up  to  see  who  could  beg  loudest.  The  turf 
was  thrown  down  when  it  would  avail  nothing,  for  neither 
smoker  paid  for  the  favor  received,  but  turned  the  poor 
urchins  back  upon  us.  I  could  not  fail  to  notice  the  cold 
look  of  indifference,  which  expressed  more  than  words 
could  utter,  from  those  men  who  were  here  among  their  own 
countrymen. 

Giving  time  for  the  bestowing  of  our  benefactions,  the 
driver  started  on,  and  the  children  followed  upon  a  full  run, 
for  a  hundred  rods,  shouting  and  screaming  all  the  way  for 
a  ha'-penny,  till  completely  out  of  breath.  Some  of  them 
were  not  over  four  or  five  years  old,  others  were  nine  or 
ten.  All  started  with  the  most  frantic  resolution  to  gain 
something,  and  were  desperate  in  their  efforts.  The  little 
fellows  soon  gave  out,  but  the  larger  ones  ran  with  astonish- 
ing determination,  and  yielded  only  when  their  strength 
was  entirely  exhausted.  When  a  penny  was  thrown  to 
them,  they  all  rushed  for  it  like  pigs,  or  fowls  for  an  ear  of 
corn,  appearing  no  more  reasonable  nor  less  ravenous.  We 
distributed  our  store  of  bread  and  cheese  we  had  laid  in  for 
our  way-side  breakfast,  which  was  devoured  greedily  by 
those  who  were  fortunate  enough  to  get  a  piece,  and  with  a 
haste  that  indicated  there  was  danger  of  losing  it.  I  have 
seen  boys  beg  for  "  une  sou,"  along  the  road  from  Quebec 
to  Montmorenci,  but  they  were  genteel  compared  with 
these.  Those  begged  for  gain,  and  by  custom ;  these  of 
necessity,  and  for  life.  They  chased  us  with  the  ferocity  of 
wild  beasts,  famished  with  hunger,  and  doubtful  of  their 
prey. 

For  myself,  my  pennies  were  gone,  and  I  reasoned  fool- 
ishly. 1  said  it  is  wrong  to  give  them,  for  it  creates  a  habit 
of  idleness,  keeps  them  away  from  school,  and  encourages 
them  to  annoy  every  traveler  coming  this  way.  But  I  for- 
got where  I  was.    1  did  not  consider  there  was  no  school 

16 


182 


POLITICAL  REMEDIES. 


for  them  to  attend,  no  work  for  them  to  do,  no  home,  nor 
larder,  nor  wardrobe  for  them — nothing  but  want  gnawing 
at  their  vitals,  and  oppression  crushing  their  young  hearts, 
and  driving  them,  thus  early,  to  beggary  and  crime. 

How  falsely  do  we  often  estimate  the  conduct  of  others, 
and  justify  our  neglect  of  duty,  by  what  we  count  wrong 
in  them!  How  few  take  into  the  account,  all  the  circum- 
stances, profound  or  apparent,  in  making  up  an  estimate  of 
another's  character !  We  call  these  Irish  people  a  poor, 
filthy,  ignorant,  superstitious  race,  not  fit  to  be  treated  with 
any  mark  of  respect ;  yea,  some  add,  they  are  jealous,  false, 
and  dishonest.  Who  can  wonder  if  they  are  ?  Nay,  I  am 
more  surprised  that  they  are  as  good  as  their  worst  enemies 
and  traducers  admit  them  to  be.  Having  lived,  generation 
after  generation,  in  a  state  of  the  utmost  depression,  denied 
the  means  of  a  common  education,  never  allowed  to  think, 
or  speak,  or  act,  for  themselves,  except  by  permission; 
struggling,  constantly,  and  under  the  most  forbidding  cir- 
cumstances, for  a  precarious  living,  oppressed,  abused,  and 
cheated  by  temporal  and  spiritual  rulers,  and  worse,  by  an 
overbearing  landlordism,  which  knows  neither  mercy,  jus- 
tice, or  common  humanity  ;  which  will  have  its  pound  of 
flesh,  if  it  must  come  from  the  hearts  of  starved  and  or- 
phan children !  How  can  they  rise  ?  How  can  they 
avoid  sinking,  every  year,  deeper  and  deeper,  into  the  loath- 
some wretchedness  where  so  many  are  wallowing,  with  no 
hope  of  deliverance,  no  drop  of  comfort  left  them  ? 

The  wrhole  history  of  Ireland's  wrongs  proves  that,  as 
certainly  as  effect  will  follow  cause,  the  whole  course  of  legal, 
ecclesiastical,  and  social  policy,  whether  intended  or  not,  I 
will  not  pretend  to  judge,  has  been  to  reduce  this  nation  to 
its  present  condition  of  destitution,  and  misery.  Nothing 
could  be  more  nrobable — nor  more  certain  and  direct.  And 
the  few  crumbs  of  parliamentary  relief  are  merely  political, 
affecting  only  the  rich  and  aspiring  demagogues.  There  is 
nothing  radical,  comprehensive,  permanent,  in  all  that  has 
been  done — nothing  that,  will  remove  the  cause,  stop  the 


INSUFFICIENT. 


183 


crevasse  through  which  the  deluge  of  evil  is  sweeping  with 
such  alarming  force,  till  it  has  reached  the  high  places,  as 
well  as  low,  and  all  ranks  complain,  with  sad  and  strange 
comminglings,  of  their  unfortunate  condition. 

The  rich  and  poor  grumble  savagely  about  the  poor  rates 
and  union  work-houses.    JNobody  is  satisfied.  O'Connel 
plead  with  manly  fortitude  and  perseverance,  for  the  re- 
moval of  political  disabilities;  and  he  succeeded.  The 
Repealers  are  clamorous  for  the  severance  of  the  union,  but 
they  hardly  know  what  they  ask  for.    The  "  Young  Irish 
Party"  would  adopt  forcible  measures  to  cut  the  bond,  let 
come  what  will.    They  think  the  case  could  not  be  worse. 
But  I  have  yet  to  learn  how  all  that  would  fill  these  hungry 
bellies,  and  clothe  these  shivering  limbs.  It  might  arouse  a 
spirit  of  freedom,  and  work  a  regeneration  which  would, 
ultimately,  do  some  good  ;  but}  unless  the  enormous  wrongs 
of  feudalism,  the  possession  and  entailment  of  these  large 
landed  and  leasehold  properties,  the  arrogance  of  the  no- 
bility and  gentry,  were  crushed,  and  all  family  distinctions 
annihilated,  and  a  spirit  of  individualism,  of  personal  rights 
and  responsibility,  mutual  relations  and  dependencies,  and 
social  equality,  were  awakened  and   brought  into  free 
and  sturdy  exercise,  I  can  see  no  real  victory  gained,  no 
permanent  blessing  to  be  secured  by  the  favorable  termina- 
tion of  their  agitations. 

What  do  these  starved  children  care  whether  a  parlia- 
ment meets  in  Dublin  or  in  London  ? — whether  Victoria, 
Brian  Boroihme,  or  Daniel  O'Connel  is  at  the  head  of  gov- 
ernment ? — whether  the  Pope  or  the  Queen  is  the  head  of 
the  church  militant  ?  They  want  immediate  relief,  and  a 
radical  removal  of  the  burdens  under  which  they  groan. 
They  want  a  chance  to  make  a  living,  without  supporting 
hundreds  in  idleness,  luxury,  and  extravagance,  in  foreign 
lands.  They  want  a  patch  of  earth,  which  shall  not  be 
covered  over  so  deep  with  rents  and  taxes  that  they  can 
not  touch  the  produce  of  the  soil.  They  want  an  educa- 
tion that  shall  enable  them  to  transact  the  business  of  life 


184 


THE   CASHIN  BOG. 


in  an  understanding  manner ;  to  know  their  rights,  the 
sources  of  success  and  the  secret  of  their  miseries.  They 
want  a  religion  that  shall  acquaint  them  with  the  true  cha- 
racter of  God,  and  the  methods  of  his  government,  make 
them  know  and  feel  that  he  holds  them  directly  and  person- 
ally answerable  to  himself;  that  he  helps  them  who  help 
themselves;  that  he  has  delegated  no  power  to  stand  be- 
tween their  consciences  and  his  commands ;  that  he  has 
left  the  will  free  to  choose  or  reject ;  and  forbidden  the  in- 
terference of  all  human  authority  in  matters  of  opinion  ; 
that  the  end  of  the  law  is  righteousness,  (right  in  action,) 
goodness,  (good  made  operative,)  and  reconciliation  to  his 
most  holy  will.  With  such  chances — such  opportunities, 
Ireland  may  be  redeemed,  and  her  wronged  and  oppressed 
people  rise  high  in  the  scale  of  human  greatness,  and  do 
honor  to  Great  Britain  and  the  world ! 

In  the  flat  and  bleak  district  we  are  now  passing,  lies 
the  Cashin  bog,  said  to  be  one  of  the  largest  in  the  country. 
It  stretches  off  to  the  westward,  towards  Knockanore  and 
the  caverned  hills  which  bound  the  ocean  near  the  Shannon's 
mouth.  The  edges  of  the  bog  are  worked  for  the  fuel, 
which  is  conveyed  to  Tralee  in  small  carts  and  panniers, 
drawn  or  carried  by  asses  driven  by  women.  Multitudes 
of  men  and  women,  boys  and  girls,  were  at  work,  cutting 
or  spreading,  carrying  out,  or  piling  up  the  turf.  A  descrip- 
tion of  a  bog,  and  the  mode  of  preparing  the  peat  for  use, 
may  not  be  uninteresting  to  my  readers. 

It  is  computed  that  there  are  nearly  three  million  acres  of 
bog  in  Ireland.  The  largest  portions  lie  in  low  grounds  or 
basins,  and  some  in  elevated  places,  and  surrounded  by  hills, 
and  others  on  the  tops  of  mountains,  as  at  Mangerton. 
The  latter  are  called  mountain  bogs.  The  surface  is  usu- 
ally flat,  but  sometimes  slightly  undulating,  like  the  waves 
of  the  sea,  or  the  rolling  prairies  in  our  Western  States. 
Their  appearance  is  like  our  marshes,  thickly  grassed  over, 
with  patches  of  dark  earth  appearing  here  and  there.  The 
bog,  like  the  alluvium  of  our  low  prairies,  seems  to  be  a  ve- 


PREPARING  PEAT. 


185 


getable  deposit,  coarse  upon  the  surface,  but  becoming  finei, 
blacker,  and  more  solid,  downwards.  It  frequently  exhibits 
stratas  of  light  colors  and  coarser  texture.  Whole  trees 
of  large  size,  are  often  found  imbedded  in  them,  several 
feet  below  the  surface,  in  a  sound  and  perfect  state.  The 
wood  from  these  trees  is  often  worked  into  articles  of  fur- 
niture, canes,  and  toys,  and,  when  highly  polished,  appears 
very  fine.  The  grain  is  coarse,  but  like  an  oak  immersed 
in  water  for  a  long  time,  becomes  hard,  and  of  a  dark 
color. 

The  process  of  preparing  and  curing  the  peat  is  very 
simple.  An  opening  is  made  by  cutting  a  ditch  to  lead  ofT 
the  water,  leaving  the  borders  sufficiently  dry  to  be  worked. 
A  long,  sharp  knife,  somewhat  like  a  scythe  sharpened  upon 
the  back,  is  used  to  cut  the  mass  into  vertical  slabs,  about 
four  inches  in  thickness.  These  are  again  cut  into  square 
strips,  and  then  into  pieces  of  eight  or  ten  inches  in  length. 
These  cubes,  looking  like  long,  black  bricks,  are  carried  back 
by  the  women  and  children  a  few  rods,  and  spread  out  upon 
the  ground  to  dry.  After  a  few  days,  they  are  piled  in 
heaps  and  left  to  "  cure,"  till  carried  to  market.  Several 
days  are  required  to  fit  the  turf  for  burning  freely.  When 
once  dry,  it  does  not  wet  through  easily,  and  so  the  peat  is 
sometimes  left  in  little  stacks  for  months. 

Each  cutting  extends  down  three  or  four  feet.  The  up- 
per layer  is  not  as  good  as  the  lower,  and  is  frequently 
thrown  away.  In  some  places  I  have  seen  four  or  five  of 
these  cut  from  the  same  bog,  one  rising  above  the  other 
in  terraces,  and  grass,  oats,  or  potatoes  growing  upon  the 
residuum  at  the  bottom,  twelve  or  fifteen  feet  below  the  ori- 
ginal surface. 

The  bog  we  passed  to-day  is  extensively  worked. 
Acres  and  acres  have  been  cut  over,  on  both  sides  of  the 
road.  For  miles  we  could  see  the  black  streaks,  where 
the  workmen  were  laying  out  the  fuel  for  next  winter. 
The  road  runs  through  the  bog,  which  has  bee  a  cut  away 
to  the  hard  bottom,  and  is  well  graded  and  macada- 

16* 


180 


LISOWEL. 


mized.  On  one  side,  workmen  were  engaged  on  a  ridge 
several  feet  above  the  level  of  the  road,  which  yielded  a 
fine  crop  of  turf.  I  am  not  able  to  compute  the  amount 
which  can  be  cut  from  an  acre.  But  when  it  attains  the 
depth  of  fifteen  feet,  the  crop  must  be  immense.  Neither 
did  I  learn  the  terms  on  which  the  workmen  are  employed, 
further  than  it  is  considered  about  the  lowest  and  hardest 
business  a  person  can  pursue  by  which  to  get  a  livelihood. 
The  terms,  certainly,  can  not  be  very  favorable,  judging 
from  the  character  of  the  people  employed,  which  is  the 
most  deplorable  of  any  we  have  seen  at  any  kind  of  labor. 

There  are  few  places,  towns,  castles,  hamlets,  or  villas 
worthy  of  notice  for  the  forty  miles  to  Tarbert,  except 
Listowel.  There  are,  to  be  sure,  the  dirty  hamlet  of  Odor- 
ney  abbey,  and  the  ruins  of  an  old  church  ;  the  monument 
of  one  of  the  Earls  of  Kent,  on  the  summit  of  a  hill,  at 
some  distance,  which  must  be  an  attractive  object  to  the 
descendants  of  the  poor  serfs  of  that  feudal  lord,  who 
helped  procure  for  them  their  miserable  estate.  But  it  is  in 
a  very  fitting  place,  overlooking  a  wide  extent  of  flat  and 
dreary  moor,  with  bleak  and  desolate  hills  in  the  distance. 
There  are  several  other  small  places,  which  scarcely  de- 
serve a  name. 

Listowel  is  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  Feale,  which,  a 
little  beyond,  widens  into  an  estuary,  and  sweeps  off  towards 
the  ocean.  A  new  and  very  handsome  stone  bridge  has 
been  built  over  the  river,  and  the  hand  of  improvement  has 
been  busy  in  adorning  the  banks  with  a  beautiful  plantation 
about  the  mansion  of  the  "  Right  Honorable  Maurice  Fitz- 
gerald, the  Knight  of  Kerry,"  the  "noble  proprietor"  of  the 
town  and  surrounding  country,  and  by  "  divine  right,"  the 
oppressor  of  the  people.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  say,  that,  in 
his  case,  many  people  speak  well  of  him,  as  one  who  has  a 
heart  not  wholly  impervious  to  the  claims  of  justice  and 
humanity,  as  he  does  sometimes  deign  to  bestow  a  thought 
upon  his  tenants,  and  inquire  after  their  condition,  whether 
their  rents  are  all  paid,  and  how  they  can  be  made  of  more 


THE   LORDS   OF  KERRY. 


181 


service  to  his  interests  and  their  own.  And  then  the  beau- 
tifying of  his  grounds  along  the  river  has  afforded  employ- 
ment, at  a  6d.  a  day,  to  many  a  poor  fellow,  who  has  thus 
been  able  to  carry  a  little  more  oatmeal  to  appease  the 
erring  hunger  of  wife  and  children. 

On  a  small  knoll,  close  upon  the  bank,  surrounded  on  the 
town  side  by  buildings,  are  the  remains  of  the  old  castle 
of  the  "  Lords  of  Kerry,"  the  renowned  Fitzgeralds,  who 
were  notable  chiefs  in  the  davs  of  the  civil  wars,  and  held 
out  long  and  manfully  against  their  enemies  in  the  times 
of  the  invasion.  They  were  frequently  in  concert  with 
the  Desmonds,  and,  when  conquered,  partook  of  the  ven- 
geance which  fell  upon  their  compatriots.  The  castle  is 
little  more  than  a  pile  of  ruins.  Its  position  could  not  have 
been  very  formidable,  as  it  must  have  been  accessible  at 
least,  on  three  sides.  Sir  George  Carew  tested  its  strength 
in  1600,  and  subjected  it  to  his  authority. 

There  is  a  very  respectable  church  standing  in  the 
midst  of  the  public  square,  a  Catholic  chapel,  and  several 
stores,  workshops,  and  decent  buildings.  The  masses  of 
people,  however,  wear  the  same  marks  of  squalid  poverty 
which  we  have  every  where  seen.  Rags,  filth,  and  beg- 
gary meet  us  at  every  turn,  and  all  along  the  road.  There 
is  no  escaping  the  sight  of  human  misery,  the  most  abject 
and  forlorn.  Every  pleasant  scene  is  defaced  by  it,  and 
scarcelv  a  moment  is  left  for  comfortable  thought  or  agree- 
able  conversation.  The  whole  land  is  cursed.  Each  shrub 
and  stone  is  made  the  witness  of  man's  degradation. 
Everv  where  is  reared  the  monuments  of  folly  and  wrong, 
of  pride  and  power,  abused  in  reducing  the  "  lords  of  crea- 
tion" to  a  condition  of  the  most  graceless  servitude  and 
abandonment. 

T  A  R  B  E  R  T  . 

We  reached  Tarbert  at  about  eleven.  From  an  emi- 
nence above  the  town,  we  had  a  delightful  prospect,  taking 


188 


TARBERT. 


in  a  long  range  of  the  valley  of  the  Shannon,  its  bays  and 
sinuosities,  from  its  mouth  to  the  highlands  about  Limerick, 
with  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Clare  county  stretched  along 
the  opposite  shore.  A  ship  of  war  was  riding  at  anchor 
before  the  town,  on  which  the  British  colors  were  flying, 
and  a  little  way  to  the  right,  a  merchantman,  with  the 
"stars  and  stripes" — welcome  signals — floating  in  its 
shrouds.  Several  smaller  vessels  lay  in  the  little  harbor, 
close  to  the  town,  and  one  or  two  were  drifting  up  the 
river,  which  spreads  out  into  a  broad  estuary  a  few  miles 
above. 

Could  I  have  banished  all  knowledge  of  the  condition  of 
the  inhabitants,  I  should  have  pronounced  that  a  most 
beautiful  region  of  country  ;  for  the  day  was  fine.  Soft 
clouds  were  floating  lightly  in  an  azure  sky  ;  the  gentle  un- 
dulations of  the  valley  were  covered  with  cultivated  fields; 
and  the  hill-sides  were  green  with  the  richest  verdure  of 
spring.  So  long  as  no  human  being  was  to  be  seen,  it  was 
a  goodly  sight  to  look  upon. 

But  we  were  soon  doomed  to  witness  a  sad  change,  for 
no  sooner  had  we  entered  the  town  than  we  were  beset  by 
a  flock  of  beggars,  clamorous  for  something  to  be  given 
them.  The  driver  left  us  in  the  street,  according  to  the 
fashion  of  the  country,  but  pointed  us  to  an  untempting 
hotel,  where  he  said  we  could  get  some  breakfast.  We  re- 
connoitered  the  premises  sufficiently  to  satisfy  ourselves  that 
our  chances  were  small,  and  so,  to  get  rid  of  the  crowd,  we 
started  for  the  steamboat  landing,  a  mile  distant.  Seeing 
our  movement  in  that  direction,  several  scrambled  for  our 
budgets,  urgent  to  serve  us  in  that  way,  and  earn  a  six- 
pence, if  possible.  But  we  did  not  dare  to  trust  them  in 
the  hands  of  such  hard  looking  customers. 

I  noticed  one  thing  which,  however,  is  not  peculiar  to  the 
Irish  character.  The  driver  had  an  understanding  with  one 
or  two  men  to  whom  he  delivered  us,  as  the  most  suitable 
to  carry  our  baggage.  They  were  attached  to  the  inn,  and 
claimed  the  monopoly.    Having  an  inkHng  of  the  fact,  and 


ITS  POSITION*. 


169 


a  good  deal  of  respect  for  the  u  free  trade"  doctrine,  we  re- 
fused them  in  short  order,  much  to  their  disappointment. 
But  several  followed  us  out  of  the  village,  and  two  did  not 
quit  us  till  we  came  near  the  landing.  Who  will  say  these 
poor  fellows  are  not  willing  to  work  ? 

We  did  not  have  time  to  take  a  very  thorough  look  at 
the  town  :  we  saw  enough,  however,  to  admire  its  beautiful 
location,  and  pity  the  miserable  condition  of  its  inhabitants. 
I  noticed  two  very  decent  churches,  and  several  respectable 
looking  stores  and  dwellings.  But  a  large  proportion  of  the 
buildings  present  the  usual  signs  of  destitution,  filth,  and 
misery  which  abound  in  all  the  country  we  have  passed 
through. 

The  situation  of  the  town  is  very  pleasant  and  well  cir- 
cumstanced for  trade.  But  so  far  as  we  could  judge  from 
appearances,  only  a  small  amount  is  done  here.  It  is  at  the 
head  of  a  small  bay,  or  inlet,  from  the  Shannon,  which 
spreads  out  to  the  width  of  several  miles  towards  the  oppo- 
site shore,  forming  Clanderlow  Bay,  in  the  county  of  Clare. 
The  only  port  of  any  consequence,  on  the  Shannon  be- 
low it,  is  Kilrush,  which  is  said  to  be  a  place  of  considera- 
ble activity.  The  condition  of  the  people,  the  tenure  by 
which  lands  are  held,  the  enormous  tax  upon  property,  and 
the  consequent  bad  state  of 'cultivation  of  the  lands  in  this 
region,  preclude  all  chance  of  a  thriving  business.  The 
best  advantages  and  fairest  prospects  are  lost  by  bad  man- 
agement. 

The  proprietor  of  the  town  has  an  elegant  seat  standing 
off  to  the  right,  near  a  mile,  on  an  elevated  site,  forming  a 
bold  head-land,  around  which  flow  the  waters  of  the  noble 
river.  The  house  overlooking  an  extensive  plantation,  and 
a  wide  extent  of  richly  diversified  country,  forms  an  object 
of  attraction,  and  gives  variety  to  the  scenery.  It  is  a 
bright  spot,  and  could  the  beholder  banish  the  thought  that 
it  is  tenanted  by  one  who  performs  a  part  in  the  grand 
tragedy  of  Ireland's  ruin  and  disgrace,  now  in  the  fifth  act 


100 


CREATION   OF  LORHS. 


of  its  most  successful  performance — he  would  greatly  ad- 
mire the  taste  and  beauty  displayed  about  it. 

Perhaps  I  ought  to  give  my  readers  a  more  distinct  idea 
of  what  is  meant  by  the  "  proprietor"  of  a  town,  or  region 
of  country  ;  for,  except  those  who  have  had  a  taste  of  what 
has  led  to  "  Anti-rentism,"  we  have  not,  in  our  country,  a 
case  in  illustration. 

A  proprietor  is  the  favored  child  of  government,  or  for- 
tune, who  has  come  into  possession  of  a  certain  tract  of 
land,  the  fee  of  which  is  invested  in  him  and  his  heirs,  or  as- 
signs for  ever.  Some  estates  are  so  entailed  that  they  can 
not  be  sold,  nor  conveyed  by  the  act  of  the  owner,  nor  in 
payment  of  any  just  and  honorable  debt.  They  belong  to 
the  family  in  perpetuity,  the  title  descending,  like  the  crown 
of  pure  and  absolute  monarchies,  to  the  oldest  male  heir. 
Other  estates  descend  to  the  nearest  kin,  and  may  be  held, 
like  the  crown  of  England,  in  the  female  as  well  as  the  male 
line.  These  are  the  families  of  the  nobility,  the  feudal  lords 
or  chiefs,  who  bore  rule  over  certain  territories  from  time 
immemorial,  or  obtained  them  by  conquest,  the  right  to 
which  was  confirmed  to  natives  who  proved  themselves 
faithless  to  their  own  country,  and  submitted  tamely  to  the 
Evglish  yoke. 

The  properties  of  the  insurgents  were  all  confiscated  by 
English  sovereigns,  and  bestowed  upon  their  favorites. 
Thus  a  new  batch  of  Anglo-Irish  peers  was  created,  and  the 
foundation  commenced  for  the  more  permanent  persecution 
and  oppression  of  the  people. 

The  partial  execution  of  a  plot  to  exterminate  all  the 
Protestants,  in  1641,  which,  according  to  Hume,  succeeded 
so  far  that  forty  thousand  Englishmen  were  murdered  by 
Irish  Catholics,  gave  a  sufficient  pretext  for  the  general  on- 
slaught so  effectually  prosecuted  by  Cromwell,  who  made 
havoc  with  all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  except  Connaught,  and 
divided  up  the  principal  estates  among  his  friends,  and  the 
partizans  of  English  authority.  In  this  way,  not  only 
was  a  set  of  foreign  lords  introduced,  but  a  feeling  of  re- 


LANDLORD   AND  LEASL. 


191 


lentless  and  bitter  animosity  generated,  which  has  burst  out 
in  several  bold,  but  unsuccessful  attempts  to  throw  off  the 
British  yoke. 

In  addition  to  the  seignories  of  the  nobility,  there  are 
other  estates  which  are  owned  or  held  by  perpetual  lease 
by  the  gentry,  and  which  descend,  by  the  law  of  primoge- 
niture, to  the  oldest  male  heir.  These  form  a  class  generally 
more  oppressive  in  their  exactions,  and  haughty  in  their 
bearing,  than  the  hereditary  nobility. 

Then,  many  of  the  estates  are  covered  by  two  or  more 
leases.  The  lord  leases  to  a  middle-man,  who  takes  upon 
him  the  management  of  affairs.  He  makes  himself  rich  by 
re-leasing  to  another,  at  a  rate  above  what  he  gives,  and  so 
has  no  concern  but  to  receive  his  rents  in  London,  or  on  the 
continent.  The  third  having  managed  successfully,  by 
dividing  the  estates,  building  towns,  erecting  mills,  working 
mines,  or  in  some  other  way,  rents  out  to  a  fourth  class,  by 
small  lots,  and  con-acres,  till  the  actual  tiller  of  the  soil, 
after  buying  the  right  to  occupy,  is  subjected  to  a  rent  suf- 
ficient to  sustain  in  splendor,  the  grades  which  ride  over 
him,  beside  paying  all  the  taxes  which  go  to  support  the 
government,  the  army,  and  navy,  and  the  myriads  of  pau- 
pers in  the  work-houses,  and  soup  kitchens,  or  who  receive 
out-door  assistance.  This  burden  is  enormous.  Figures 
will  hardly  calculate  it.  I  will  present  one  case,  which  will 
give  some  idea  of  the  bestowment  and  income  of  proper- 
ties. 

Castle-island,  noticed  before,  which  is  situated  at  the  head 
of  the  valley  above  Tralee,  was  formerly  the  property  of 
Geoffrey  de  Marisco,  who  built  the  castle,  and,  as  a  valiant 
knight,  held  all  the  people  about  that  region  as  his  vas- 
sals. In  1345  it  was  taken  by  Sir  Ralph  Ufford  from  the 
knights  of  the  Earl  of  Desmond,  the  family  in  possession 
of  a  vast  region  of  country  in  this  part  of  Munster.  The 
poor  knights,  after  capitulating  to  Sir  Ralph,  were  all  put  to 
the  sword  in  cold  blood.  At  this  place,  also,  in  1397,  Ge- 
rald, the  fourth  Earl  of  Desmond,  called  "  the  Poet,"  was 


192 


A    MISERABLE  HAMLET. 


eluded  out  of  his  camp  and  cruelly  assassinated.  In  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth,  who  was  bountiful  in  her  bequest  of  the 
confiscated  properties  of  the  Catholics,  the  town  and  ad- 
joining lands,  were  granted  to  the  Herbert  family,  under 
the  title  of  the  "  Manor  of  Mount  Eagle  Loyal."  The 
tract  thus  bestowed,  contained  thirty-six  thousand,  nine 
hundred  and  twenty  plantation  acres,  and  was  valued  at 
£3,169,  12s.  10d—  over  815,000  a  year!  In  1733  a  fee 
farm  lease,  subject  to  a  reserved  rent  of  £  1,900,  ($9,000,) 
a  year  for  ever,  was  made  of  this  property  to  five  men,  who 
have  since  admitted  a  sixth,  and  still  remains  in  their  fami- 
lies, by  whom  it  is  rented  to  under  tenants. 

The  condition  of  these  tenants  may  be  learned  from  a 
description  of  our  visit  to  one  of  this  class,  between  Tar- 
bert  and  the  steamboat  landing. 

Having  to  wait  a  few  hours  for  the  boat  which  was  to 
take  us  to  Limerick,  and  having  given  away  the  breakfast 
we  had  provided  at  Tralee,  to  the  poor  children  along  the 
road,  we  found  it  necessary  to  look  up  something  to  eat. 
It  was  too  far  to  go  back  to  the  town,  and  besides,  we  could 
not  relish  a  dinner,  ever  so  good,  with  so  many  hungry, 
haggard  beggars  about  us.  So  we  concluded  to  look  for 
something  in  the  low  huts  we  had  passed,  near  the  bridge 
which  crosses  the  small  inlet  separating  the  little  island 
from  the  main.  There  might  be  a  dozen  or  more  low, 
coarse  stone  huts,  with  thatched  roofs,  standing  in  a  row  in 
front  of  the  military  coast-station.  We  inquired  at  each 
of  these,  but  could  obtain  no  bread,  milk,  or  meat — nothing 
at  all  in  the  shape  of  food.  In  two  or  three  of  them  there 
was  whiskey,  as  we  judged  from  the  signs  usually  attendant 
upon  such  localities — a  few  bottles,  a  glass  or  two,  and  seve- 
ral red-faced,  weak-jointed,  garrulous  customers  sitting 
about  them.  Amongst  them  we  noticed  two  women  who 
had  not  signed  Father  Mathew's  pledge,  or  else  had  forgot- 
ten, to  keep  it.  Our  stomachs  complained  gnawingly  at  our 
ill  success,  and  we  were  induced  to  renew  our  search,  by 
inquiring  where  some  milk  could  be  found.    We  were  ve- 


A   DOMESTIC  SCENE. 


193 


ferred  to  a  low  stone  house  on  the  side  hill,  half  a  mile  over 
the  bridge,  where  they  said  a  cow  was  kept. 

W e  returned,  and  incited  by  curiosity  as  well  as  hunger, 
we  resolved  to  make  good  use  of  our  opportunity,  and  so 
inquired  at  several  hovels  scattered  along  that  side  of  the 
inlet  for  bread,  taking  some  pains  to  look  in  and  see  how  the 
people  lived.  We  could  not  find  a  morsel  to  eat  till  we 
came  to  the  farthermost  house  in  the  hamlet.  We  inquired 
at  the  door  for  milk,  and  to  our  great  comfort,  were  an- 
swered favorablv.  We  walked  in.  It  was  a  rough  stone 
house,  laid  up  in  coarse  mortar,  and  unplastered.  The 
floor,  as  is  common,  was  of  clay,  which  was  broken  through 
in  several  places,  so  that  the  loose  ground  appeared.  The 
roof  was  formed  of  small  round  poles,  covered  with  straw. 
There  were  no  girders  on  the  walls.  The  room  was  open 
to  the  roof.  Unlike  many  we  have  seen,  it  had  a  large 
fire-place  and  chimney.  A  bed  stood  in  one  corner,  and  a 
rude  cradle,  with  a  child  sleeping  in  it,  near  by.  There 
were  two  old  chairs  in  the  room,  a  wooden  bench,  a  chest, 
a  rough  table  against  the  wall,  and  a  dresser  with  a  few 
dishes  on  it.    A  pot  was  hanging  over  a  peat  fire. 

The  "  lady  of  the  house"  received  us,  at  first,  somewhat 
timidly,  but  when  she  learned  that  we  were  travelers  from 
America,  her  manner  was  at  once  changed.  She  appa- 
rently felt  more  at  ease,  and  at  once  became  verv  social 
and  inquisitive.  She  offered  some  apologies  for  the  man- 
ner in  which  she  was  compelled  to  entertain  the  friends  of 
her  country,  who  had  been  so  generous  in  relieving  their  dis- 
tresses,  when  famine  was  carrying  off  thousands  all  around 
them,  to  an  untimely  grave.  We  spoke  of  our  acquaint- 
ance and  experience  in  the  struggles  of  poverty,  and  our 
sympathy  for  those  who  are  compelled  to  work  hard  and 
suffer  much  to  obtain  an  honest  living.  She  was  more 
than  ordinarily  intelligent,  and  seemed  to  have  a  stout 
heart  to  bear  up  under  the  difficulties  which  pressed  30 
heavily  upon  them.  She  spoke  of  their  plans  to  get  to 
America,  and  manifested  a  good  deal  of  enthusiasm  at  the 

17 


194 


STIR- A- BOUT. 


thought  that  the  time  was  not  far  distant  when  it  would  be 
executed.  It  seemed  to  her  like  an  expected  deliverance 
from  captivity,  and  she  spoke  of  it  with  all  the  fervor  of 
one  who  is  hoping  to  gain  his  liberty  after  a  long  period  of 
false  imprisonment.  She  spoke  of  her  "  childers"  as  doubly 
dear  because  they  would  "  goo  till  America,"  and  never 
know  what  it  was  to  suffer  poverty  and  oppression,  as  their 
parents  had,  in  the  "  ould  coounthry."  She  had  three 
children,  one  an  infant,  one  running  about,  and  one  at 
school.  Said  she,  "  We're  thrying  to  kape  our  boye  at 
school,  for  I'm  tould  that  in  yer  coounthry  all  the  childers 
must  be  learned." 

We  assured  her  it  was  greatly  desired  that  children 
should  be  taught  all  the  useful  branches ;  that  the  most  fa- 
vorable opportunities  were  provided,  free  for  all,  and  that, 
as  far  as  we  could,  we  made  our  free  schools  equal  to  any 
others ;  that  the  children  of  all  classes,  the  rich  and  poor, 
might  seek  an  education  in  the  same  school,  so  that,  from 
the  humblest  conditions,  men  might  rise,  as  they  often  do, 
to  the  most  eminent  positions,  as  scholars,  professors,  and 
statesmen.  She  seemed  perfectly  delighted  with  the 
thought  that  her  children  would,  some  day,  have  such  op- 
portunities afforded  them. 

While  our  conversation  was  going  on,  she  served  us  with 
a  basin  of  "  stir-a-bout"  from  the  pot  over  the  fire,  and 
some  milk,  which  she  poured  from  a  tin  pan  into  our  dishes. 
One  of  us  sat  upon  the  bench,  the  other  in  the  old  chair. 
The  table  was  a  plain  board,  loaded,  at  one  end,  with  vari- 
ous articles,  the  other,  at  which  we  sat,  without  any  cove- 
ring of  cloth.  There  was  as  fair  an  exhibition  of  neatness 
as  could  be  expected  under  such  circumstances.  The  milk 
was  very  good,  and  the  "  stir-a-bout''  passable.  It  was 
made  of  oatmeal,  like  mush,  or  Yankee  hasty-pudding. 
There  was  no  bread,  butter,  cheese,  meat,  or  potatoes  in 
the  house.  Some  times  they  bought  American  (Indian) 
meal,  which  costs  from  half  a  crown  to  three  shillings  a 
stone — fifty  to  sixty-five  cents  for  fourteen  pounds.  She 


CONDITION    OF  FARMERS. 


195 


said  they  did  not  like  it  so  well  as  oatmeal,  and  they  could 
not  afford  to  use  flour.  Their  sole  dependence  is  upon  oat- 
meal, now  that  the  potato  has  failed  them.  They  rarely 
ever  taste  meat  of  any  kind.  A  pound  and  a  half  of  salt 
pork  would  cost  more  than  a  day's  work.  She  informed 
us  that  herself  and  children  enjoyed  pretty  good  health, 
but  "  her  man"  had  to  work  so  hard  that  he  was  often  at- 
tacked with  the  fever — the  fever  and  ague,  which  prevails 
a  good  deal  in  these  boggy  districts. 

Just  as  we  had  finished  our  humble  meal  the  husband 
came  in  from  his  work.  He  was  a  man  of  middle  size, 
well-formed,  but  spare  and  pale,  from  hard  work,  and  in- 
sufficient food.  His  countenance  was  sad,  indicating  a 
heavy  heart.  But  he  spoke  affectionately  to  his  little  boy, 
who  met  him  at  the  door,  and  received  us  with  an  easy 
politeness  and  urbanity  we  have  not  been  accustomed  to  at- 
tach to  the  pure  Irish  character.  We.  at  once,  entered  in  a 
conversation  upon  the  social  condition  and  prospects  of  his 
country,  and  derived  from  him  much  information,  concern- 
ing the  actual  condition  of  those  who  are  what,  in  our  coun- 
try, we  should  call  the  farmers.  His  case  was  a  fair  sample 
of  those  of  the  better  class  of  small  farmers. 

He  owns  his  house  and  one  acre  of  ground,  for  which, 
however,  he  pays  to  his  landlord,  Mr.  Leslie,  the  proprietor 
of  the  town,  £3,  (#15,)  for  the  land,  and  £2,  (810,)  for  his 
cabin,  yearly  !  The  pasturage  of  his  cow  costs  him  £l,  10s. 
Add  to  all  this  his  church  rates  and  taxes,  and  the  sum  is  not 
less  than  $50.  He  works  for  his  landlord  at  8d.  (15cts,)  a 
day,  in  summer ;  in  winter,  at  6d.  and  boards  himself* 

He  commences  work,  at  this  season,  at  5  o'clock,  and 

*  K  With  large  tracts  of  land  lying  uncultivated,  a  few  miserable  men  are 
employed  on  the  roads — at  what  wages  think  you?  One  pound  of  yellow 
meal — i.  e.  less  than  Id.  per  diem  ! ! !    Great  God,  how  is  this  to  cure  famine  ! 

"  If  this  process  of  depopulation  goes  on  a  few  months  more,  you  may 

SEEK  AN  ABLE-BODIED  MAN  IN  VAIN  FOR  TWENTY  OR  THIRTY  MILES  OF  COUN- 
TRY." 

Such  is  the  testimony  of  an  intelligent  Conservative  witness,  after  having 
visited  four  counties. 


196 


A   HARD  LOT. 


works  till  12,  then  sat  1,  and  continues  till  7.  He  takes  his 
breakfast  before  he  starts,  or  goes,  as  he  did  this  morning, 
without  it.  He  walks  home  one,  or  two  miles  to  his  dinner  of 
"  stir-a-bout"  and  milk,  and  back  again,  for  his  nooning,  and 
and  then  toils  till  night.  If  late,  five  minutes,  he  is  docked 
a  quarter  of  a  day.  In  this  instance,  he  had  taken  no  food 
since  noon  on  Sunday — the  day  before — and  now  sat  down 
to  a  single  plate  of  oat-meal  mush  and  a  half-a-pint  of  milk. 

Now  look  at  the  sum  of  this  man's  misery.  There  are 
at  best,  but  three  hundred  and  thirteen  working  days  in  a 
year.  For  three  or  four  months  in  winter  he  can  get  no 
work,  and  in  rainy  weather  his  wages  stop,  so  he  does  not 
actually  receive  pay  for  over  two  hundred  days.  But  allow- 
ing he  works  every  day,  and  receives  8d  a  day,  the  highest 
summer  wages,  abating  nothing  for  rain  or  sickness,  or  win- 
ter, and  he  would  realize  but  £10,  or  less  than  $50.  From 
this  deduct  his  rent,  taxes,  and  county  cess,  and  his  only 
support  is  from  his  acre  of  land,  and  his  cow.  And  he  is 
what  would  be  called  a  prudent,  industrious  man,  and  "  well- 
to-live"  as  the  generality  of  the  middling  interest  people  in 
this  country.  Englishmen  talk  about  the  indolence  of  the 
Irish.  The  accusation  is  false.  They  are  as  willing  to 
work  at  any  service,  as  any  people  on  earth ;  and  those 
who  have  a  chance  do  work,  under  the  most  discouraging 
circumstances,  with  a  fortitude  which  surprises  us. 

As  the  poor,  tired,  famished  man  sat  there,  and  took  his 
spoonfuls  of  mush  from  a  tin  plate,  with  an  iron  spoon,  and 
sipped  the  milk  from  a  tin  cup,  I  looked  upon  his  thin,  pale 
countenance,  which  I  knew  was  the  index  of  a  sad  and 
crushed  heart,  and  listened  to  the  brief,  simple  tale  of  his 
miseries  and  wrongs,  and  marked  the  fitful  glimmerings  of 
a  true  and  noble  nature,  when  he  spoke  of  our  own  country, 
and  his  hope  of  removing  to  it ;  I  could  not  restrain  my 
feelings  of  compassion.  The  whole  past  rushed  up  before 
me.  I  thought  of  the  days  of  my  boyhood,  when  I  labored 
as  one  among  the  sturdy  yeomanry  of  my  native  land.  I 
contrasted  the  prosperity  of  that  noble  and  independent 


FUTURE  PLANS. 


197 


race—the  bone  and  sinew  of  our  glorious  Republic,  with  the 
depressed  and  forlorn  condition  of  these  serfs  of  a  proud 
aristocracy,  who  are  reduced  to  the  last  degree  of  living, 
wretchedness,  and  wrong.  The  farmers  of  our  country 
sometimes  work  hard,  but  they  have  many  days  of  leisure, 
and  always  a  garner  full,  and  a  broad  table  well  furnished 
with  an  abundance  of  the  best  provisions,  such  as  an  Irish 
Earl  might  covet.  I  watched  closely  the  changes  of  his 
features,  which  betokened  a  full  heart,  sadly  oppressed  by 
circumstances.  When  he  spoke  of  his  plans  of  going  to 
America,  and  we  encouraged  him  to  hope  it  was  possible, 
a  smile  beamed  upon  his  sad  countenance  ;  but  the  utter- 
ance of  a  word,  or  proposal  of  a  question  which  involved 
the  difficulties  with  which  he  was  contending,  wrought  a 
complete  change  in  his  appearance. 

His  best,  and  only  feasible  plan  which  he  explained  to  us, 
is  to  deny  himself  and  family,  to  the  very  verge  of  starva- 
tion, in  order  to  save  enough  to  pay  his  own  passage  to 
America,  leaving  his  family  behind  to  subsist  upon  the  in- 
come of  the  cow.  Arrived  there,  he  hopes  to  be  able  to  earn 
enough,  in  one  or  two  years,  to  send  for  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren. This  is  the  only  earthly  hope  that  keeps  his  heart 
from  sinking  into  despair.  He  has  no  other  source  of  com- 
fort left  him.  To  look  upon  his  wife,  and  hear  the  prattle 
of  his  children,  brings  him  no  joy,  but  adds  to  the  burden 
of  his  sorrows  ;  while  he  thinks  their  affection  is  to  be  met 
with  his  inability  to  make  them  happy.  But  when  he  thinks 
he  can  provide  for  them  a  good  and  happy  home,  he  presses 
them  warmly  to  his  full  heart,  as  he  did,  while  tears  trickled 
from  his  eyes,  as  I  laid  my  hand  on  the  head  of  his  little 
boy,  which  he  held  in  his  arms,  and  told  him  I  hoped  to  see 
him  growing  up  among  the  free  and  honorable  young  men 
in  our  country,  with  bright  prospects  of  a  long,  useful  and 
happy  life.  He  was  much  pleased  when  we  inquired  his 
name,  and  gave  him  ours,  and  promised  to  befriend  him 
when  he  came  to  our  country. 

Mr.  —  may  be  unlike  the  rest  of  his  countrvmen. 

17* 


198 


IRISH  HOSPITALITY. 


I  know  he  is  not  yet  so  deeply  oppressed  as  thousands  are, 
and  hence  he  may  have  retained  more  of  the  dignity  of 
human  nature,  and  preserved  the  feeble  action  of  those  ten- 
der cords  which  vibrate  in  unmistakable  tones  the  true 
character  of  an  Irish  heart.  We  did  not  ask  his  religion. 
There  was  no  need  of  it.  He  showed  it  to  us  without.  He 
may  be  Catholic ;  he  may  be  Protestant ;  he  may  be  Me- 
thodist, or  Independent.  That  is  nothing.  Deeper  and 
truer,  and  more  legible  than  all,  he  convinced  us  that  he  was 
a  man,  had  a  heart,  and  could  feel — was  a  christian,  and 
and  could  love  ;  and  as  such  I  loved  him,  felt  for  him,  and 
pitied  him  as  my  brother. 

We  gave  them  liberally  for  our  meal.  When  they  saw 
the  amount  they  both,  at  once,  refused  it.  We  insisted, 
and  reluctantly  they  accepted  it,  with  an  expression  of  sin- 
cere thankfulness  which  was  worth  infinitely  more  than  the 
shillings  we  gave  them.  But  we  had  detained  the  man  too 
long,  as  we  may  the  reader — and  he  hurried  away  to  labor, 
apparently  with  a  heart  made  lighter  by  our  visit,  though 
we  found  we  had  robbed  him  of  a  part  of  his  dinner. 

Ireland  has  been  famed,  from  time  immemorial,  for  tne 
hospitality  of  its  inhabitants.  The  pages  of  every  work 
written  upon  its  history,  character,  or  condition  attest  it, 
and  we  have  had  ocular  demonstration  of  the  fact  in  many 
cases.  Will  any  say,  even  the  most  hostile  Englishman, 
that  these  Irishmen  are  all  depravity,  all  evil — past  redemp- 
tion, ungrateful,  vindictive,  inhuman  ?  What  nation  has 
suffered  so  much  and  yet  retains  a  more  excellent  quality 
than  the  virtue  of  hospitality  ?  Shame  on  the  slanders 
showered  indiscriminately  upon  a  whole  nation  !  It  is  time 
to  have  done  with  such  injustice,  to  cultivate  a  better  feel- 
ing, and  bestow  a  merited  eulogy. 

Returning  over  the  bridge,  we  saw  several  well-dressed, 
and  apparently  well-fed,  men  and  women  coming  from  the 
military  station  connected  with  the  coast  defence.  Their 
condition  and  manners  contrasted  strangely  with  the  scenes 
we  had  just  witnessed.    There  was  a  proud  and  supercili- 


REVENUE  STATION. 


199 


ous  air  about  them  which  jarred  the  equanimity  of  our  feel- 
ings, and.  as  the  phrenologist  would  say,  roused  other  or- 
gans than  those  which  had  been  so  recently  in  a  state  of 
keen  excitement.  Had  there  been  a  wide  space  between, 
the  change  might  have  afforded  relief  instead  of  pain ;  but 
as  it  was,  our  organs  of  benevolence,  justice,  and  sympathy 
had  not  been  quieted,  and  we  were  illy  prepared  to  look, 
with  admiration,  upon  a  display  of  wealth,  and  power,  and 
place.  So  we  turned  away  from  looking  at  the  pretty 
grounds  about  the  Revenue  police  station,  which  stands 
upon  a  beautifully  rounded  eminence,  and  commands  a 
charming  prospect  of  the  river  and  shores.  We  went  towards 
the  long  stone  pier,  from  which  we  were  to  embark  in  small 
boats,  to  an  old  hulk  moored  off  in  the  river  six  or  eight 
rods.  Owing  to  the  great  rise  and  fall  of  the  tides,  steam- 
boats can  not  always  land  on  the  end  of  the  elegant  stone 
pier,  which  extends  a  dozen  rods  into  the  little  bay.  The 
steamers  come  alongside  the  boat  moored  off  for  that  pur- 
pose, on  which  the  passengers  and  freight  are  stationed. 

While  I  sat  demurely  upon  the  pier,  pondering  upon 
what  I  had  seen,  and  the  various  and  strange  aspects  in 
which  humanity  must  appear  to  the  unveiled  eye  of 
Him  who  "  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men  for  to 
dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth,"  I  was  aroused  by  the 
approach  of  a  multitude  of  people,  winding  round  the  hill, 
and  issuing  from  the  plantation  of  young  trees,  towards 
the  bridge.  We  started  back  to  see  them,  as  we  were  cu- 
rious to  know  what  it  could  mean.  It  was  a  motley  grouu, 
of  all  ages,  with  bags  and  budgets,  boxes  and  baskets,  na- 
ked heads  and  bare  feet,  ragged  clothes  and  smutty  faces, 
followed  by  several  carts,  drawn  by  asses,  and  loaded  with 
such  goods  as  are  landed  on  our  wharves  on  the  arrival  of 
an  emigrant  ship.  There  could  not  have  been  less  than  a 
hundred,  some  of  whom  were  tolerablv  dressed ;  but  the 
majority  looked  very  miserable. 

We  lingered  behind  for  some  time  after  they  had  passed, 
engaged  in  conversation  upon  what  was  transpiring.  It 


200 


EMIGRANTS. 


was  not  long  beiore  we  were  startled  by  such  a  wail  of  wo 
as  I  never  heard  before.  We  hasted  to  the  pier,  supposing 
some  fatal  accident  had  occurred.  The  people  were 
crowded  together,  and  weeping  and  wailing  in  a  most  piti- 
able manner.  On  inquiring,  we  found  that  five  or  six 
young  persons  were  about  to  leave  for  America.  They 
were  going  up  to  Limerick  in  the  steamer,  to  take  a  ship 
which  was  to  sail  the  next  day.  One  of  them  was  married, 
and  was  going  to  meet  her  husband  in  Pennsylvania ;  two 
or  three  were  young  women,  and  one  a  young  man. 

I  never  witnessed  so  wild  an  exhibition  of  sorrow  before. 
They  seemed  to  give  themselves  up  to  mere  instinctive 
passion,  without  any  attempt  to  control  their  feelings,  or 
moderate  them  by  judgment.  At  one  time  the  whole  air 
would  ring  with  exclamations  of  the  bitterest  grief,  like  the 
rushing  of  a  fierce  tempest-wind ;  then  all  would  become 
calm  again,  and  they  would  talk  and  laugh,  as  if  the  happi- 
est beings  on  earth.  Then  some  one  would  hint  that  the 
steamer  was  coming,  or  some  movement  would  be  made  to 
transport  the  luggage  from  the  pier  to  the  scow,  when  all 
would  break  out  in  the  most  furious  expressions  of  grief. 
Parents  would  embrace  their  children,  and  brothers  and 
sisters  weep  aloud,  as  if  their  hearts  were  rent  with  the  bit- 
terest agony.  One  father,  who  had  wTept  as  loud  as  any 
other,  tried  to  comfort  himself  by  chiding  the  others  for 
beins?  so  inconsolable. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  in  a  stammering  voice,  "  we  should  not 
wape  for  them.  Och,  sure,  an'  are  they  not  agoin  to  lave 
this  poour,  wretched  coounthry,  where  we  all  stharve,  and 
goo  to  that  blissid  land  where  the  poour  folks  have  mate  to 
ate  ivery  day,  an'  they  will  ?" 

That  was  like  a  toast  given  to  our  country  at  a  festival. 
We  could  keep  silence  no  longer,  but  at  once  entered  into 
a  description  of  the  advantages  and  comforts  the  industri- 
ous poor  people  might  have,  describing  the  course  they 
ought  to  pursue  when  they  emigrated  to  it ;  showing  them 


ANXIETY   TO   GO   TO  AMERICA. 


201 


the  folly  of  hiving  together  in  our  large  cities,  and  living  in 
filth  and  ignorance,  as  too  manv  do. 

Thev  listened  to  us  with  evident  satisfaction,  and  our 

ml 

conversation  had  the  effect  to  still  their  horrid  yelling,  till 
it  was  announced  that  the  steamer  was  winding  round  the 
point  just  below,  and  would  be  there  in  a  few  minutes.  A 
sudden  and  terrific  scream  burst  out  afresh,  as  if  each  was 
anxious  to  drown  the  other,  and  make  his  own  agonies 
most  conspicuous.  Men,  women,  and  children  mingled 
their  voices  in  wild  confusion,  as  if  all  bedlam  was  let 
loose.  They  embraced,  and  kissed,  and  wept,  and  bade 
adieu,  over  and  over  again.  But  least  affected  among 
them  were  those  who  were  bidding  farewell  to  their  home, 
their  friends  and  country  for  ever.  There  seemed  to  be  a 
ray  of  hope  and  comfort  for  them ;  for  the  rest,  only  dark- 
ness and  despair.  And  those  about  to  leave,  gave  it  as  the 
richest  comfort  thev  could  offer,  that  as  soon  as  thev  could 
earn  it,  they  would  send  them  the  means  of  getting  away 
from  the  oppression  and  misery  under  which  they  were 
sufferingr  so  severely.    This  was  the  richest  comfort  thev 

O  J  J 

could  offer ;  and  parents  besought  their  children,  with  the 
most  earnest  entreaties,  not  to  forget  them  when  they  should 
have  enough  to  eat,  but  to  remember  them,  and  send  for  them 
as  soon  as  thev  could  earn  means  enough.  This  was  the 
last,  the  very  last,  request  that  they  made,  even  after  they 
had  parted  from  the  shore.  "  Don't  forgit  yer  poor,  sthar- 
vin'  mither,  Mary  dear,  but  be  a  good  child,  my  darlint,  an' 
the  blissed  angels  will  kape  ye."  "  Remimber,  Bridget,  an' 
sind  for  us,  an5  ye  can  arne  feve  poound  ;  we'll  sell  the  pag 
and  git  the  rist." 

These  requests  followed  the  adieus,  as  if  the  anxiety  to 
get  to  America  transcended  all  other  considerations.  I 
stopped  behind,  till  one  or  two  boat  loads  had  passed  from 
the  pier  ;  and  remarked  that  those  who  had  parted  from 
their  friends  entered  at  once  and  cheerfully  into  conversation 
upon  the  plans  and  prospects  of  getting  to  America.  Some 
of  them  thought  thev  could  so  next  year.    Their  daugh- 

S3  .tl  O  J  O 


202 


TAKEN   FOR   AN  ENGLISHMAN". 


ters  could  earn  ten  and  fifteen  pounds  a  year,  and  that 
would  pay  the  passage  of  father  and  mother,  and  one  or 
two  sisters.  Others  expected  to  be  obliged  to  wait  two 
years.  One  man  said  if  he  could  sell  his  farm  he  would 
go  next  fall.  J  asked  him  if  he  had  a  farm.  He  said  he 
had  one  of  ten  acres. 

"  Do  you  own  it  ?"  asked  I. 

"Och,  sure,  I  have  the  right  of  it.  I  paid  a  hundred 
poound  for  it,  and  I  wish  I  could  sell  it  for  half  the  amoont." 

"  I  thought  vou  had  no  small  farmers  here,  that  the  lords 
and  gentry  owned  all  the  land,  and  only  leased  it  to  you." 

"  An'  they  do  ;  but  sure  an'  I  own  it  too,  foor  1  bought 
the  lease  of  it,  an'  pay  the  rint  to  the  landlord,  an'  the 
county-cess,  an'  the  tithes,  an'  the  poor-rates  ;  till,  i'faith, 
we  are  all  poor  ourselves.  We  are  all  small  farmers,  an' 
poour  ones  too,  I  can  assure  yer  riverence  that.  An'  ye're 
an  Englishman — an  agent,  perhaps,  an'  would  like  to  knoo 
soome  thing  aboot  our  things  ?" 

"No,  I  am  not  an  Englishman,  nor  an  agent,  but" — 

An'  ye  are  not  an  Englishman,  ayeh  ?  The  divil  a  bit 
can  ve  decaive  me  in  that,  an'  ye  would  be  afther  savin'  so  a 
twelvemonth.  Sure,  an'  is'nt  it  as  plain  as  yer  hat  on  yer 
head,  ye  are  no  Irishman.  Ye  do  not  spake  like  a  cooun- 
thrvman  of  oours." 

"  I  am  an  American,  sir." 

"  An'  it's  an  Amirican  ye  are  ?  Blissed  Virgin,  an'  it's 
a  great  coounthry  ye  are  coome  from,  it  is.  An'  I  wish  I 
was  there.  When  did  you  coome  to  this  counthry  ?  It's 
a  poour  people  we  are  coome  to.  The  Lord  have  mercy 
on  us." 

And  then  followed  a  tornado  of  questions  and  remarks 
from  him  and  others,  about  "  Amiriky,"  those  who  had  gone 
there ;  whether  I  knew  "  Patrick  O'Flaherty,  an'  Michael 
O'Grady,  an'  Daniel  McSweeny,  an'  James  McCarthy, 
an'  Patrick  O'Sullivan,  who  all  went  from  Ballvbunnian, 
Abbeyfeale,  Carrinakilly,  Ballinruddery,  Tallymore,  Arde- 
fert  Abbey,  and  all  aboot  this  region,  and  soome  from  coun- 


A   BRITISH  STEAMER. 


203 


ty  Clare,  joost  over  the  river  there,  who  were  all  cliver  min, 
and  shmart."  When  I  protested  I  did  not  know  them 
he  was  much  surprised — though  some  had  gone  to  Canada, 
and  others  to  New  Orleans. 

THE  SHANNON. 

The  steamer,  a  black,  rusty-looking  craft,  came  along  side 
of  the  hull,  to  which  we  had  been  conveyed  in  small  boats, 
and  we  were  soon  all  on  board.  A  large  company  of  pas- 
sengers, from  Kilrush  and  the  intermediate  landings,  were 
already  on  the  decks,  and  also  a  large  amount  of  freight. 
As  this  is  the  first  English  river  steamer  I  have  seen,  it  may 
not  be  out  of  place  to  give  a  brief  description  of  it. 

The  hulk  is  constructed  much  like  a  sloop,  except  it  is 
larger,  and  the  bows  and  keel  are  sharper.  The  quarter 
deck  is  raised  two  or  three  feet  above  the  main.  There  is 
no  promenade,  nor  hurricane  deck,  nor  any  awning.  For- 
tunately, the  sun  shines  in  this  country,  very  little.  The 
guards  do  not  project  over  the  hull,  except  at  the  wheel- 
houses.  It  is  like  a  sea  steamer  in  every  thing  except  size, 
and  naked  as  a  sloop.  The  engine  and  boilers  are  in  the 
hold,  and  the  pilot,  or  wheelsman  stands  in  the  stern  without 
any  shelter  from  the  sun,  wind  or  rain.  He  has  no  com- 
munication with  the  engineer.  Both  are  subject  to  the 
commander,  who  directs  the  former  by  motions  and  the  lat- 
ter  by  words,  which  are  passed  down  by  a  man  or  boy,  sta- 
tioned over  the  engine  for  the  purpose,  who  repeats  the 
captain's  orders — "  stop  her — half  speed — back  her — let  her 

go-" 

The  regulation  and  construction  of  these  boats  seem 
to  me  very  awkward  and  inconvenient.  There  is  no  dis- 
play of  taste,  and  little  respect  paid  to  neatness  and  com- 
fort. Benches  are  arranged  about  the  after  deck,  and 
cushioned  seats  are  in  the  cabins.  But  no  where  is  seen 
the  taste  and  luxury  found  in  all  our  passenger  boats.  In- 
deed there  is  scarcely  a  <;  Tow-boat'"  on  the  Hudson  river. 


204 


PRIDE   OF  CASTE. 


not  better  found  than  the  best  of  those  belonging  to  the 
"  Dublin  Steam  Navigation  Company,"  which  controls  the 
navigation  of  the  Shannon. 

The  dirtiness  of  the  boats  is  inexcusable,  though  owing 
to  the  burning  of  turf,  which  is  used  instead  of  coal,  it 
might  require  more  labor  to  keep  it  clean.  But  this  is  no 
apology  in  a  country  where  labor  is  cheap,  and  thousands 
are  starving  for  want  of  employment.  Water  is  cheap, 
also,  and  hogs  are  plenty,  so  that  brushes  can  be  had  to  scrub 
the  decks  and  dust  the  cabins.  Filth  is  inexcusable,  but 
these  people  are  so  used  to  it  that  it  does  not  annoy  them 
to  travel  or  dwell  in  the  midst  of  it.  But  I  wonder  those 
who  pretend  to  more  refinement,  do  not  make  some  attempt 
to  be  decent  and  comfortable. 

We  passed  about  the  boat  to  inspect  the  management  and 
working  of  it,  and  finally  took  our  position  on  a  pile  of 
freight,  in  order  to  have  a  better  view  of  the  country  and 
scenery  along  the  shores  of  the  Shannon.  We  happened 
to  be  there  when  the  collector  came  round  for  our  fare, 
which  saved  us  about  fifty  per  cent.,  as  we  were  taken  for 
second-class  passengers.  We  had  not  before  suspected  but 
that  we  were  as  good  as  any  body,  nor  felt  any  inconven- 
ience on  account  of  caste.  But  price  sometimes  begets 
pride,  poverty  shame  Many  a  man  would  feel  himself  quite 
happy,  and  never  dream  of  dissatisfaction,  with  himself  or 
the  world,  but  for  being  over-topped  by  the  vapory  show, 
and  strutting  brag  of  others.  His  equilibrium  gets  dis- 
turbed and  envy  steals  into  his  soul,  and  he  feels  chagrined 
when  others  pretend  to  be  greater,  or  smarter  than  he.  And 
many  are  foolish  enough  to  pay  their  last  dollar,  and  deny 
themselves  peace  and  the  ordinary  comforts  of  life,  merely 
to  keep  up  appearances  before  others.  This  is  a  species  of 
"  disinterested  benevolence,"  and  se//*-sacrifice,  my  philoso- 
phy could  never  interpret.  I  am  willing  to  submit  to  all 
rightful  exactions,  and  to  bestow  honor  where  it  is  due  ;  but 
I  have  yet  to  learn  how  an  imaginary  line  across  the  deck 
of  a  steamboat  can  mark  the  division  of  honor  and  shame. 


AND   EXISTENCE   OF  PRINCIPLE. 


205 


Such  distinctions,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  discover, 
do  not  prevail  here  to  a  greater  extent  than  they  do  in  our 
country,  for  we  mingled  freely  with  all  on  board,  none  neg- 
lecting or  despising  us  for  being  ranked  with  the  "second- 
class."  I  do  honestly  think  there  is  a  prouder,  and  more 
arrogant  feeling  in  American  than  in  European  society, 
especially  in  the  more  common  relations  of  social  inter- 
course ;  money,  and  religious,  and  political  opinions  beget 
as  wide  divisions,  and  as  bitter  asperities  at  home  as  here, 
except  in  the  portions  actually  arrayed  against  each  other. 
But  the  pride  of  birth,  nation,  and  hereditary  caste  prevails 
extensively  here,  which  is  not  acknowledged  in  our  country. 
Wealth  and  orthodoxy  in  religion  and  politics,  are  the  stand- 
ards with  us.  But  these  rarely  elevate  one  above  the  reach 
of  public  reprobation  when  guilty  of  wrong.  There  is  a 
high  tone  of  moral  and  social  feeling  still  left  to  us  at  home 
which  does  not  prevail  so  powerfully  and  freely  here.  The 
gold  and  silver  of  our  country  so  often  changes  hands  that 
it  is  virtually  powerless.  Here  it  is  suffered  to  accumulate 
and  become  hereditary,  and  therefore  is  more  difficult  of  ex- 
tinction. Still  it  is  so  circumscribed,  and  hampered,  that 
the  advancing  light  of  the  true,  and  right,  the  humane  and 
universal,  is  constantly  sweeping  away  the  false  and  selfish, 
and  virtue  and  nobleness,  even  in  humble  places,  begins  to 
be  recognised  and  praised,  whilst  vice  and  wrong  are  scorned 
and  rebuked  wherever  found.  This  proves  the  existence 
and  growth  of  a  healthy  tone  of  sentiment,  which  affords 
the  highest  hopes  for  the  future,  and  arms  one  with  the  for- 
titude to  endure  and  the  courage  to  fight  for  further  victo- 
ries in  the  cause  of  God  and  humanity. 

Several  incidents  occurred,  during  our  voyage  to  Lime- 
rick, which  deserve  mention,  as  they  served  to  illustrate 
traits  of  character  and  opinions,  and  practices  which  were 
new  to  me. 

A  portion  of  the  passengers — and  the  whole  deck  was 
crowded — were  very  well  dressed  and  appeared  to  be  intel- 

18 


206 


CAUSES   OF   NATIONAL  ANTIPATHY. 


ligeiit  and  refined  in  their  manners.  Perhaps  one  third 
were  of  this  class.  Another  third  were  like  the  common 
Irish  emigrants  who  work  on  our  canals  and  railroads.  The 
remainder  were  a  sort  of  middle  class,  who  would  compare 
very  well  with  the  less  educated  farmers,  and  mechanics 
and  laborers,  in  our  country.  Several  government  officers 
were  on  board,  civil,  military,  and  naval.  They  ranked,  of 
course,  number  one — in  their  own  estimation  at  least.  I 
was  sorry  to  see  here,  as  on  most  occasions,  a  degree  of 
hauteur  on  the  part  of  the  English  towards  the  native  in- 
habitants, which  was  exceedingly  unkind  and  to  us  insuffer- 
able, because  evidently  calculated,  if  not  intended,  to  irri- 
tate and  exasperate  the  feelings  of  this  unfortunate  people, 
and  keep  up  and  increase  the  hostility  which  already  pre- 
vails too  extensively,  and  is  the  proximate  cause  of  the  dif- 
ficulties subsisting  between  the  two  countries. 

It  can  never  be  expected  the  Irish  will  harmonize,  and 
dwell  peaceably  with  the  English,  as  the  members  of  one 
nation,  so  long  as  their  pride  is  constantly  tortured  by  every 
officer,  resident,  or  tourist  who  comes  among  them.  De- 
stroy a  man's  ambition  and  he  will  be  sullen  and  indifferent. 
Hector  his  pride  and  he  will  grow  angry  and  resentful.  An- 
nihilate his  hope,  and  he  will  become  despondent  or  furious. 
Oppress  him  with  rents,  tithes,  and  taxes  till  he  can  endure 
no  longer,  and  he  will  grow  angry  and  rebel,  or  indolent  and 
starve.  Then,  to  taunt  and  jeer  him  in  his  misery,  is  a 
crime  and  a  cruelty  too  fiendish  to  be  endured  without  a 
curse. 

I  can  not  blame  the  poor,  oppressed,  starved  Irish,  for  their 
hatred  towards  the  English.  I  have  seen  too  much  to  say 
there  is  no  cause,  no  wrong  in  the  complaint  they  make. 
But  I  pity  them  that  they  are  not  able  to  meet  the  wrong 
and  insult  with  a  stronger  fortitude,  in  a  more  manly,  digni- 
fied, and  christian  manner.  It  is  a  poor  way  to  redress  one 
wrong  by  inflicting  another — to  punish  a  landlord  they  do 
not  like,  by  assassinating  him,  stealing  behind  a  wall  in  a 
mean  and  cowardly  spirit,  and  shooting  him  dead.    This  is 


WRONG   DOES   NOT   JUSTIFY  RETALIATION. 


207 


often  done,  I  am  told.  I  have  seen  reports  from  various 
parts  of  the  kingdom,  detailing  numerous  cases  of  this  sort. 

I  own  it  is  exceedingly  provoking  to  a  spirit  crushed  and 
broken,  to  be  insulted  by  one  who  has  produced  the  misery 
suffered,  and  still  twists  harder  the  screws  which  are  tortu- 
ring the  very  life  out  of  them.  If  aught  on  earth  could 
ever  justify  vengeance,  and  form  an  apology  for  retaliation, 
the  Irishman  has  it.  His  starved  wife  and  children,  as  they 
turn  their  glazed  eyes,  already  sunk  deep  in  their  sockets, 
and  raise  their  attenuated  hands,  imploring  him  for  a  mor- 
sel of  food,  when  he  has  none  to  give — his  last  farthing  hav- 
ing been  distrained  for  rent,  and  not  a  ootato  left  for  wife  and 
child — do  virtually,  in  the  world's  sense  of  it,  plead  wTith 
him  to  avenge  their  untimely  death,  and  punish  the  cruel 
monster  who  has  caused  all  their  misery.*  The  deep  heart 
of  humanity  revolts  at  the  thought  of  such  a  wrong ;  and 
yet  it  is  well  that  cool  judgment  will  not  excuse  the  rash- 
ness of  vengeance.    One  wrong  does  not  justify  another. 

It  is  better,  doubtless,  the  poor  peasant  should,  after  he 
has  covered  the  famished  bodies  of  wife  and  children  with 

*  "  Disease  is  cutting  away  the  population  at  a  rate  not  easily  estimated  ;  and 
the  people,  under  the  pressure  of  their  wretchedness,  are  fast  degenerating 
into  brutality.  The  poor  are  buried  by  stealth,  uncoffined,  and  at  night. 
Parents  bury  their  children  in  gardens  and  by-places,  to  hide  the  fact  of 
their  death, '  in  order  that  their  miserable  pittance  of  meal  might  not  be 
stopped.'  The  dogs  are  turning  into  beasts  of  prey  ;  and  we  have  heard  a 
few  days  since  of  a  dog  horrifying  a  parcel  of  men  assembled  at  a  smith's 
forge,  by  rushing  among  them  with  the  head  of  a  child  in  its  mouth,  which, 
no  doubt,  it  had  scraped  out  of  its  shallow,  hasty  grave." — Kerry  Post. 

"  Matthew  Fleming,  of  Sharavogue,  found,  in  one  of  his  out-houses,  the 
head  of  a  poor  man,  and,  on  making  search,  he  found  the  body  in  the  wood 
of  said  place,  with  the  hands  eaten  off.  The  head  was  brought  by  his  dog 
during  the  night.  It  appears  the  poor  man,  who,  it  is  supposed  was  from 
Marble  Hill,  county  Galway,  was  heard  to  say  that  he  would  have  died  with 
want  on  the  previous  day,  were  it  not  that  he  got  relief  from  a  farmer  named 
Dooly,  of  Clonaheen.  The  poor  man  died  with  want  in  the  wood.  The  dogs, 
as  carrion,  fed  on  his  corpse.  Good  God,  how  long  will  our  rulers  be  deaf  to 
these  scenes,  the  like  of  which  were  never  witnessed  in  a  Christian  country  ! 
There  was  an  inquest  held — a  verdict  rendered  accordingly." — Tipperary 
Vindicator. 


208 


NOBILITY   MUST  BE  SUSTAINED 


the  few  sods  his  remaining  strength  will  enable  him  to 
spread  over  them,  lie  down  by  their  side  on  the  cold 
ground  and  die,*  than  to  seek  retaliation  on  the  christian  (?) 
landlord,  who  caused  .his  misery,  and  now  takes  his  life  by 
inches.  The  world  would  call  that  murder,  and  hang  him, 
while  his  is  but  a  misfortune.  Besides,  to  kill  him  would 
do  no  good.  It  would  not  bring  back  the  life  of  those  he 
loved,  but  would  pierce  a  new  and  poisoned  dart  into  his 
own  soul.  The  poor  individual  has  not  the  right  of  the 
multitude  of  individuals  called  Government,  or  the  conven- 
ticle called  Inquisition,  to  remove  the  evils  which  disturb 
him. 

The  lives  of  his  wife  and  children,  and  his  own,  are  of 
little  worth  compared  with  the  glory  of  royalty,  or  the 
preservation  of  respect  for  an  article  in  the  creed.  The 
poor  man's  family  has  no  right  to  live,  if  the  absentee  land- 
lord's darling  daughters  are  to  be  denied  a  vard  of  ribbon, 
a  bouquet  of  flowers,  a  plate  of  ice-cream,  or  a  Roman 
punch,  when  they  want  them ;  nor  Victoria's  babies  re- 
fused a  single  bauble  they  may  covet.  Oh,  no  !  that  would 
be  very  wrong ;  a  grievous  offence  against  the  moral  and 
religious  sense  of  nobility.  But  it  is  all  right  to  train 
whole  armies,  feed,  and  clothe,  and  pay  them  well,  and 
march  them  forth  to  shoot  their  fellow-men,  sack  towns, 
ravish  women,  and  perform  every  hellish  act !    That  is  all 

*  "  We  have  dead  bodies  every  where.  I  am  obliged  myself  to  handle 
them,  coffin  them,  and  put  them  in  the  earth.  We  can  not  procure  a  suffi- 
ciency of  men  to  bury  the  dead,  or  of  coffins  to  contain  them.  Every  vil- 
lage has  dead  bodies  lying  unburied  for  many  days;  almost  every  hovel  in 
the  suburbs  of  the  town  has  its  corpse.  We  can  not,  I  repeat,  get  coffins, 
boards,  or  men  for  the  necessity  of  the  moment.  May  God  forgive  our  ru- 
lers for  their  cruel  conduct  towards  God's  creatures  here  !" — Rev.  Mr.  Cox- 
way,  P.  P. 

"  The  humane  Protestant  rector  of  Ballinrobe  addresses  Lord  John  Russell 
to-day,  through  our  columns,  and  every  line  of  his  eloquent,  expressive,  and 
philanthropic  letter  is  a  voice  from  the  dead — a  voice  telling  of  over  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty-six  re&istered  deaths  occurring  in  one  week  in  the  poor- 
house  of  Ballinrobe  ! !" — Dublin  Journal. 


THOUGH   THE   PEOPLE  STARVE. 


209 


perfectly  right,  very  cool !  greatly  glorious !  and  the  brow 
of  him  who  succeeds  best  in  such  noble  acts,  shall  be 
wreathed  with  the  greenest  laurels.  The  whole  nation 
shall  do  him  reverence,  and  be  taxed  to  rear  equestrian 
statues,  and  triumphal  arches,  or  columns  of  brass  or  marble, 
to  perpetuate,  through  all  time,  the  memory  of  his  gallant 
deeds  !  And  he  who  solves  a  problem  in  theological  mys- 
teries to  the  satisfaction  of  all  who  pretended  to  understand 
and  believe  it  before  ;  or  brandishes  about  an  old  argument 
to  sustain  the  creed,  shall  be  honored — perhaps  sainted, 
though  he  may  never  have  given  a  crumb  from  his  table  to 
feed  a  famished  widow,  or  breathed  a  christian  prayer  in 
the  cell  of  a  dying  captive ! 

Oh,  Ireland,  thou  art  a  burlesque  in  the  eyes  of  fat,  ab- 
sent landlords,  an  aspiring  government,  and  a  proud  church! 
Thy  misfortunes  are  great,  but  no  wrong  has  been  done 
thee  !  There  is  no  help  for  thy  sons  and  daughters.  Thy 
taxes,  thy  rents,  thy  tithes,  thy  ignorance  must  remain,  though 
thy  children  starve ;  and  any  attempt,  on  thy  part,  to  re- 
lieve thyself,  to  change  thy  position,  shall  be  promptly  met. 
and  the  screw  crush  thy  limbs,  already  mangled,  still  more ! 
Thou  must  not  wince,  nor  utter  a  word ;  but  bear,  in  si- 
lence, the  sneers  of  those  who  come  among  you,  to  look 
carelesslv  upon  thy  miseries,  or  impose  new  hardships! 

In  conversation  with  quite  an  intelligent  lady,  who  was 
going  from  Kilrush  to  Limerick  with  her  daughter,  a  very 
modest,  pretty  girl,  of  sixteen  or  seventeen,  I  was  partially 
introduced  into  a  new  method  of  disposing  of  the  affections, 
and  preparing  for  the  future  condition  of  a  child.  It  had 
become  so  common  to  hear  the  pitiable  tales  of  suffering, 
and  witness  the  proofs  of  oppression,  ignorance,  and  misery, 
that  it  did  really  afford  me  great  relief  to  converse  with 
one  who  did  not  speak  of  her  wo,  destitution,  and  danger, 
but  entered  upon  more  general  and  agreeable  topics. 

When  the  good  lady  found  we  were  from  America,  she 
began  a  course  of  inquiries  about,  our  country,  and  the  pros- 
pects and  advantages  of  those  of  some  property,  and  fair 

IS* 


210 


a  mother's  plans 


pretensions  to  education  and  respectability.  I  gave  her 
what  information  I  could,  assuring  her  that  for  the  indus- 
trious and  virtuous  there  was  a  fair  opportunity,  that  na- 
tionality was  soon  forgotten  when  a  person  entered  into  a 
sympathy  with  our  social  institutions ;  and  a  new-comer 
would  soon  be  recognised  as  a  friend,  if  true  to  the  princi- 
ples of  a  common  humanity. 

She  inquired  what  the  prospects  were  for  a  young  woman 
like  her  daughter.  Misconceiving  her  ideas,  I,  rather  un- 
gallantly,  gave  a  description  of  the  common  condition  of 
Irish  girls  who  live  in  our  families.  She  did  not  reprove 
me,  but  went  on  to  speak  of  her  daughter's  qualities,  and 
her  education,  informing  me  that  she  was  now  taking  her 
to  Limerick,  to  "  finish  her  music,"  when  she  would  be  fitted, 
in  every  particular,  for  a  gentleman's  wife.  I  now  saw  my 
mistake,  and  apologized  as  well  as  I  could,  entering  some- 
what into  a  detail  of  the  method  of  making  matches,  on  the 
voluntary  system  in  our  country.  She  was  surprised  that 
it  was  not  left  to  the  parents  to  arrange  these  matters,  vir- 
tually to  trade  off  their  children  to  their  own  liking.  For 
herself,  she  thought  her  daughter  would  be  qualified  for  any 
gentleman,  and  she  often  heard  the  Americans  made  excel- 
lent husbands;  she  had  therefore  entertained  serious  thoughts 
of  disposing  of  hev  real  estate,  and  removing  to  America  for 
the  better  establishment  of  her  daughter  in  married  life. 

I  regretted  I  could  not  afford  her  any  particular  informa- 
tion on  this  subject,  or  make  her  any  promises  of  aid  in 
such  a  procedure.  But  she  desired  my  name  and  address, 
(and  I  believe,  all  those  of  my  companions,)  which  I  could 
not  refuse  her,  assuring  her,  at  the  same  time,  that  I  was 
married  according  to  my  own  choice,  and,  being  of  age, 
even  without  a  knowledge  of  my  father  till  by  letter  I  invi- 
ted him  to  the  wedding.  She  thought  she  should  come  to 
America,  as  few  chances  of  settling  her  daughter  as  she  de- 
sired, existed  at  home.  The  English  she  did  not  like — she 
declared  she  should  be  very  unwilling  to  wed  her  child  to 


TO   MARRY   HER  DAUGHTER. 


211 


one,  if  ever  so  rich,  and  few  of  her  own  countrymen  were 
worthy  of  her  hand. 

I  admired  the  love  and  pride  of  that  mother,  and  would 
not  disturb  her  fond  hopes,  and  so  joined  in  praise  of  her 
child,  which,  by  the  way,  I  could  do  with  much  sincerity, 
as  she  was  very  pretty,  modest,  and  intelligent.  But  I  won- 
dered at  the  freedom  with  which  the  mother  talked  in  her 
presence,  and  that  she  remained  so  unconcerned,  on  a  sub- 
ject so  nearly  allied  to  herself  and  her  destiny.  To  carry 
forward  the  train  of  remark,  and  see  how  far  it  might  go 
beyond  what  would  be  conceived  propriety  among  strangers 
at  home.  1  ventured  to  ask,  if  I  were  single,  whether  there 
would  be  any  hope  for  myself.  The  mother  readily  assented 
there  would ;  that  it  would  give  her  the  greatest  pleasure  to 
bestow  her  daughter  upon  an  American  gentleman.  The 
girl  looked  up  and  smiled  modestly,  but  did  not  blush.  I 
could  not  attribute  this  to  coldness,  nor  indifference,  nor 
want  of  modesty ;  for  her  whole  appearance  and  conduct 
was  most  proper,  and  her  sensibilities  and  judgment  truly 
refined.  Her  mother  had  a  most  profound  respect  for 
Americans,  believed  them  all  honest,  and  honorable,  and 
she  made  the  marriage  of  her  only  child  with  one,  an  object 
of  her  highest  ambition. 

Had  I  been  unmarried,  and  anxious  for  a  speculation,  I 
might  have  been  induced  to  have  made  further  inquiries 
about  the  terms  of  settlement,  how  much  could  be  made  by 
the  operation,  whether  it  "  would  pay,"  and  so  forth.  But 
with  all  their  love  of  money,  of  which  the  Yankees  are  ac- 
cused,  I  believe  that  beauty,  character,  and  affection  have 
much  more  to  do  with  matrimony  in  our  country  than  in 
any  other.  It  is  a  matter  of  choice  between  the  parties — 
too  often  of  fancy,  without  judgment,  I  admit ;  and  parents 
do  little  more  than  advise  and  assent  to  the  voluntary  con- 
tracts of  their  children.  Here  it  is  otherwise.  Parents 
stipulate  the  terms,  and  the  children  consent  to  the  bargain. 
Both  methods  may  have  objections,  but  the  advantages  are 
in  favor  of  the  former,  especially  when  people  wait  until 


212 


CHARACTER  THE  TEST  OF  RESPECT. 


judgment  is  matured,  and  do  not  rush  blindly,  and  heedlessly 
into  connexions  where  there  is  no  similarity  of  taste  and 
character,  and  discontent  and  misery  can  only  be  expected 
to  follow. 

I  was  sorry  to  be  obliged,  by  a  sense  of  duty  awakened 
by  the  confidence  reposed  in  me,  to  caution  this  devoted 
mother  not  to  place  too  implicit  confidence  in  all  Ameri- 
cans, for  like  other  people,  we  were  not  all  perfect ;  but  de- 
ceit and  treachery,  and  falsehood,  and  faithlessness,  some- 
times finds  room  to  hide  away,  and  prepare  to  execute  their 
base  machinations  upon  unsuspecting  innocence.  I  assured 
her  we  had  many  just  and  noble  men,  and  our  country  af- 
forded a  fair  chance  of  success  to  all  young  people  who  were 
true  to  themselves,  and  their  responsibilities.  The  field 
lies  open  to  all ;  the  poor  may  grow  rich,  and  the  obscure 
honorable.  The  distinctions  of  family,  and  wealth  are  of 
no  account  in  the  formation  of  social  relations.  Character 
is  the  criterion.  The  sons  of  our  most  distinguished  men 
may  marry  the  daughters  of  the  obscurest  citizens,  and  ex- 
cite no  wonder.  Sometimes  those  of  aristocratic  feelings 
— generally  those  who  have  themselves  risen  suddenly  from 
the  humblest  positions  to  affluence,  and  fashion — make  up 
wry  faces,  and  utter  harsh  words  when  son  or  daughter  in- 
clines to  choose  a  companion  from  the  same  ranks  from 
which  they  have  sprung  ;  but,  if  virtuous  and  handsome, 
all  admire  the  taste,  and  approve  the  judgment  of  one,  and 
rejoice  in  the  good  fortune  of  the  other,  because  none  who 
reflect  can  discover  any  wrong  in  the  case.  Therefore,  if 
she  wished  her  daughter  to  become  the  wife  of  an  Ameri- 
can, who  should  be  worthy  of  her  hand,  and  who  would  be 
likely  to  make  her  happy,  she  must  mingle  in  their  society, 
on  proper  occasions,  and  wait  the  proposition  of  some  lucky 
wight  who  should  be  fortunate  enough  to  be  smitten  by 
such  superior  attractions  as  her  daughter  possessed,  and 
receive  a  reciprocal  return,  and  find  favor  in  her  sight,  be- 
fore the  throne  should  be  occupied  by  another ;  and  then 


A    WANDERING  MINSTREL, 


213 


no  obstacle  would  be  in  the  way  of  her  becoming  the  queen 
of  an  American  sovereign ! 

There,  thought  I,  that  is  aoout  as  much  blarney  as  I  am 
capable  of  using,  or  can  well  spare.  The  good  mother  re- 
ceived it  with  expressions  of  great  favor,  and  assured  me 
she  should  remove  to  America  as  soon  as  she  could  arrange 
her  affairs  to  do  it,  without  too  much  loss  in  the  sale  of  her 
property. 

Soon  after  coming  on  board,  some  traveling  musicians 
commenced  playing  several  airs,  among  which  were  "  Yan- 
kee Doodle,"  "  Hail  Columbia,"  "  The  Star-Spangled  Ban- 
ner," and  a  variety  of  "Nigger  Tunes,"  as  they  are  called, 
such  as  "  Dan  Tucker,"  "  Lucy  Neil,"  "  Lucy  Long," 
"  Take  me  back  to  Old  Virginny."  I  could  not  fail  to  re- 
mark the  pleasure  which  these  tunes  seemed  to  afford 
others,  as  well  as  ourselves.  We  felt  as  if  we  were  at  home 
during  their  performance.  When  the  musician  came 
round  with  his  cap  for  a  contribution,  we  asked  him  how 
he  came  to  play  so  many  American  tunes. 

"  Och,"  said  he,  "  an'  did'nt  we  knoo  ye 're  Amirikins ; 
an'  fa'th,  an'  would'nt  we  do  somethin'  to  plase  ye,  who 
coome  froom  that  blissid  coounthry,  which  fed  us  when  we 
were  stharvin'." 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  you  ought  to  play  '  God  save  the  Queen/ 
for  she  is  vour  sovereign." 

"  The  divil  a  bit  do  I  care  for  the  Quane ;  it's  a  small 
bit  o'  praise  that  I'd  be  afther  givin'  her,  anyhoo.  It's 
Amiriky  that  I  loove,  it  is,  moore  than  England,  an'  all  the 
kings  and  quanes  in  the  woorld." 

"  Yes,  but  vou  should  be  true  and  loval." 

"  Is't  true  and  loyal  to  oour  opprissors,  ye  would  have 
us  ?  Sorra  a  bit  uv  it  will  I  ba  afther  giving  them,  at  all, 
at  all.  Ayeh,  praise  the  min  that  make  us  stharve  ?  Ye 
do  noo  such  thing  in  yer  coounthry,  an'  I  knoo,  I  do  ;  an' 
it's  that  same  that  I'll  not  do  aither,  begorra." 

"  Well,  here's  a  sixpence  for  your  blarney ;   and  you 


214 


IRISH  OPINION 


must  play  some  of  the  tunes  over  again,  or  else  give  us 
some  Irish  airs." 

"  An'  sure,  an'  it's  noo  blaarnay,  that  I'm  afther  giving 
ye,  at  all.  It's  the  thruth  that  I'm  tellin'  ye,  when  I  spake 
well  o'  Amiriky  ;  that  same  blissed  coounthry,  an'  the  pa- 
ple  in  it.  May  the  blissed  Virgin  presarve  it  till  I  git  there, 
af'oore  lan  sr." 

"  But  how  did  you  come  to  know  we  were  Americans  ?" 

"  Och,  sure,  an'  are  not  yer  coollars  turned  down,  as  noo 
gintilmin  but  Amirikins  have  'em." 

A  little  piqued  that  our  nationality  was  so  easily  de- 
tected, only  because  it  might  prevent  us  from  mingling, 
with  the  freedom  we  desired,  among  all  classes,  and  secu- 
ring a  confidence  which  would  enable  us  to  form  a  true 
estimate  of  what  we  saw,  I  remarked  to  him  he  had  better 
play  some  British  tunes,  to  humor  the  pride  of  the  English- 
men, and  they  would  give  him  more  liberally. 

"  The  divil  a  farthin'  moore  will  they  be  afther  givin' 
me,  nor  that  naither,  an'  I  would  play  them  all  the  tunes  in 
the  kingdom.  It's  not  the  same  I'd  plase,  at  all.  Begorra, 
I'll  not  sthain  my  shooul  with  so  great  a  sin,  as  to  plase  the 
min  that  oppriss  and  ruin  me  coounthry  " 

This  was  said  with  an  air  of  defiance,  quite  common 
with  a  class  of  the  people,  when  speaking  of  England. 
An  inveterate  hostility  is  cherished  towards  that  na- 
tion, and  all  their  misfortunes  and  misery  are  set  to  the  ac- 
count of  English  interference — high  rents,  heavy  taxes,  po- 
tato rot,  and  all.  No  matter  if  the  landlord  is  an  Irishman, 
and  the  middle-man  lays  on  the  exorbitant  rents,  or  the 
small  farmers  charge  enormously  for  con-acres.  England 
is  at  fault  for  every  thing.  But  for  the  union  all  would  go 
well.  "Repeal"  that,  and  the  waste  lands  and  undrained 
bogs  would  produce  bountifully,  and  all  Ireland  would  be  a 
paradise  again,  as  in  the  days  of  the  great  Saint  Patrick ! 

Such  is  the  dream  of  these  wretched  people.  They  are 
ignorant,  and,  consequently,  easily  led  by  those  who  have 
their  confidence,  and  blind  and  bigoted  when  once  an  opi- 


OF   ENGLISH  GENEROSITY. 


215 


nion  is  formed.  They  have  been  made  to  believe  that 
England  is  their  bitterest  enemy — that  the  government  has 
no  concern  for  their  welfare,  only  to  over-ride  them  with 
tithes  and  taxes,  and  force  them  to  renounce  their  religion, 
or  flee  their  country  and  leave  it  for  an  inheritance  to  the 
Protestants!  If  a  school  is  established,  it  is  only  to  con- 
vert their  children  from  the  true  faith ;  if  an  improvement 
is  attempted,  it  is  merely  to  increase  the  rent ;  if  a  poor- 
house  is  built,  it  will  add  to  their  taxes  and  do  no  good. 
They  are  disheartened  and  distrustful ;  and,  so  often  cheat- 
ed, and  so  long  oppressed,  they  have  become  suspicious 
of  every  body,  even  of  one  another. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  those  who  claim  to  be  their  su- 
periors, conduct  themselves  in  a  manner  calculated  to  be- 
get and  sustain  such  feelings.  There  is  exhibited  little  of 
that  kind  forbearance,  and  benevolent  concern,  which  a  na- 
tion so  long  and  deplorably  depressed  should  receive  at  the 
hands  of  enlightened  and  christian  rulers,  and  rich  and 
"  noble"  landlords.  Few  evidences  are  given  of  any  other 
disposition  than  that  of  enmity  and  unconcern,  by  those 
whose  business  it  should  be  to  exercise  mercy  and  gene- 
rous aid  towards  a  crushed  and  disheartened  people,  to 
raise  them  from  their  degradation,  and  guide  them  into  the 
paths  of  intelligence,  honor,  and  prosperity. 

SCENERY     ALONG     THE  SHANNON. 

The  scenery  along  the  Lower  Shannon  is  varied,  and,  in 
some  places,  romantic.  It  would  be  beautiful,  actually 
charming,  if  one  could  banish  the  sight  of  destitution  and 
misery  which  every  where  meet  the  eye. 

The  mouth,  from  Keery-head  to  Loop-head,  is  ten  or 
twelve  miles  wide,  and  the  shores  about  the  bay  are  bor- 
dered with  caverned  cliffs,  and  swelling  hills,  sundered  by 
deep  glens,  narrow  inlets,  or  boggy  vallies,  with  tiers  of 
mountains  rising  in  the  distance.  The  caves  of  Ballybun- 
nian,  worn  out  by  the  interminable  fretting  and  dashing  of 


216  GLYNN. 

the  restless  ocean,  are  objects  of  curiosity  to  the  geologist 
and  traveler,  and  the  views  about  the  Doon  bay  are  re- 
markably beautiful.  As  we  ascended  the  river  the  jutting 
cliffs,  in  some  places  rugged  and  precipitous,  the  rounded 
headlands,  which  divide  the  succession  of  small  bays,  the 
soft,  green  islets,  the  ruined  castles  and  small  villages  dotted 
along  the  shores,  which  look  respectable  in  the  distance, 
with  here  and  there  the  aristocratic  seat  of  some  lord  or 
gentleman,  with  fine  fields,  smooth  lawns,  and  extensive 
plantations,  added  much  to  the  variety  and  beauty  of  the 
scenery.  But  the  small  turf- boats,  with  dirty,  brown  sails, 
managed  by  ragged  and  wretched  boatmen,  and  every 
where  the  traces  of  poverty  and  neglect,  so  mar  the  beau- 
ties of  creation  that  one  can  not  contemplate  them  without 
pain. 

A  few  miles  above  Tarbert  we  passed  the  village  of 
Glynn,  near  which  was  pointed  out  to  us  a  rather  elegant 
seat,  the  property  of  Sir,  or  Lord,  or  Hon.  Fitzge- 
rald, "  the  Knight  of  Glynn."  There  are  also  several  very 
pretty  villas  about  the  town,  which,  at  this  season,  make  a 
fine  appearance,  as  if  they  might  be  the  abodes  of  wealth 
and  rural  contentment.  But  that  a  family  can  find  peace 
and  happiness  in  the  midst  of  so  much  misery  as  abounds 
in  all  directions,  seems  to  me  impossible ;  for,  if  they  have 
a  heart  to  enjoy,  they  must  have  a  soul  to  pity,  and  such 
deplorable  scenes  of  destitution  as  must  meet  their  eyes  at 
every  turn,  must  either  overwhelm  them  with  sorrow,  or 
steel  their  finer  feelings  against  all  impressions  which  help 
to  form  the  sum  of  human  happiness. 

An  intelligent  gentleman,  of  whom  I  learned  much  con- 
cerning this  country,  pointed  out  to  me  the  ruins  of  Glynn 
castle,  and  told  me  a  story  about  a  brave  defence  made 
there  by  some  bold  knight,  more  than  two  hundred  years 
ago,  who  was  finally  overcome,  and  the  whole  garrison 
cruelly  butchered  by  the  English  under  General  Carew. 
Farther  on,  he  designated  several  other  interesting  places, 
the  villas  of  the  gentry,  the  demesnes  of  lords,  castles  and 


FEUDAL  CASTLES  NEW   ENGLAND  SCHOOL- HOUSES.  217 

villages,  with  interesting  scraps  of  history,  and  legends.  I 
did  not  note  even  the  names  of  all  of  them,  but  I  remem- 
ber Foyne's  Island  and  Mount  Trenchard,  on  the  south, 
the  elegant  and  romantic  seat  of  some  lord,  the  village  of 
Loughill,  at  which  we  took  off  two  boat  loads  of  passen- 
gers, Cahircon,  and  several  fine  demesnes  on  the  Clare 
shore. 

Winding  between  some  small  islands,  we  entered  into 
the  broad  estuary  of  the  Shannon,  which  spreads  off  to  the 
north,  at  the  head  of  which  is  the  town  and  castle  of  Clare. 
This  bay  changes  the  aspect  on  the  north.  The  craggy, 
bleak  limestone  hills  cease,  and  a  broad  and  beautiful  val- 
ley stretched  off  to  the  northeast,  bordered  by  a  gentle  ele- 
vation, which  is  the  more  remarkable  for  a  growth  of  large 
timber  which  covers  it,  forming  a  great  novelty  in  a  coun- 
try almost  entirely  destitute  of  forests.  On  this  side,  the 
gray  walls  of  several  old  castles,  covered  with  ivy,  were 
pointed  out  by  name. 

Castles  have  become  so  frequent,  that  I  no  longer  feel 
interest  enough  in  them  to  remember  their  names.  The 
whole  country  is  full  of  them.  They  are  as  thick  as 
school-houses  in  New  England,  but  have  never  protected 
half  as  many  noble  hearts,  nor  did  a  ten  thousandth  part  as 
much  service  to  the  country  or  the  world.  These  were 
but  the  moral  nurseries  of  feudal  tyrants,  who  oppressed 
their  vassals,  and  took  shelter  in  them  from  the  fury  of 
rival  clans.  Those  are  the  free  nurseries  of  sovereigns — 
God's  noblemen,  who  breathe  the  air  of  freedom,  and  pro- 
claim liberty  to  all.  These  enslaved  the  masses,  and  sus- 
tained a  sham  nobility  by  oppression.  Those  break  off  the 
chains  of  ignorance,  and  help  the  weakest  rise  to  wealth 
and  honor.  Who  can  doubt  the  results  ?  Here  is  a  na- 
tion of  bondsmen,  crushed  in  spirit,  shrouded  in  ignorance, 
bigoted  in  religion,  uncared  for  by  others,  and  unable  to 
help  themselves — famished,  starved,  and  dying.  There  the 
humblest  have  knowledge  ;  all  minds  are  free  to  examine 
every  subject,  and  reject  or  approve,  sustain  or  condemn  ; 

19 


218 


BUNRATTY. 


and  a  fair  field  is  open  to  all,  where  each  may  run  his  own 
race  unencumbered,  and  expect  honor  or  shame,  wealth  or 
poverty  to  be  meted  out  according  to  his  deserts.  Here  a. 
few  noblemen  and  gentry  are  born  to  titles  and  riches, 
which  can  not  be  sequestered  for  an  honest  debt,  or  deep  dis- 
grace, but  go  down  by  hereditary  law — divine  right — to  the 
next  akin,  until  some  royal  mandate  changes  the  succession. 
There  no  claim  of  primogeniture  can  be  sustained,  and  no 
act  of  bankruptcy  save  from  disgrace  the  man  who 
would  cheat  an  honest  creditor.  Here  a  man  glories  in  an 
elevation  to  which  he  is  born,  and  occupies  without  merit, 
living  in  splendor  while  thousands  famish  about  him — mere 
tenants-at-will.  There  a  man  is  promoted  for  what  he  does 
and  deserves,  and  others  praise  or  shun  him  as  they  please 
— no  one  act  can  shield  him  from  censure  and  disgrace 
for  vices  afterwards  committed.  Such  are  some  of  the 
contrasts  between  an  old  Irish  feudal  castle,  and  a  New- 
England  school-house.    Who  has  not  a  preference  ? 

I  mention  the  grim  old  castle  of  Bunratty,  near  which  is 
an  elegant  modern  mansion,  because  of  its  fine  appearance, 
and  from  the  fact  that  it  is  still  occupied  as  a  police  bar- 
racks, thus  retaining  something  of  its  original  character — 
the  power  to  overawe  the  wretched  people  and  keep  them 
in  subjection.  From  a  distance  it  appears  to  be  one  of  the 
largest,  most  curious,  and  stately  piles  we  have  seen,  and 
worthy  the  renown  of  the  de  Clares  who  built  it,  and  bore 
rule  along  the  north  shore  of  the  Shannon  for  a  long  period. 

On  the  the  south,  a  mile  or  two  up  a  small  river,  which 
is  navigable,  is  the  town  of  Askeaton.  The  gruff  walls  of 
the  castle  rise  from  a  solid  rock  in  the  river  to  the  height 
of  near  a  hundred  feet,  and  are  in  a  tolerable  state  of  ruin. 
This  was  another  stronghold  of  the  Desmonds,  and  was 
blown  up  by  Sir  George  Carew  at  the  time  he  overrun  this 
part  of  Munster.  Near  the  river  are  the  remains  of  a 
Franciscan  monastery.  The  situation  of  these  ruins,  and 
the  town,  is  very  beautiful,  and,  in  any  country  but  Ireland, 
would  be  a  resort  for  the  lovers  of  the  grand  and  beautiful 


HOSTILITY   OF  RACES. 


219 


ill  rural  scenery.  The  naked.,  craggy,  and  bleak  mountains 
stretching  off  in  the  res&,  the  lofty  summit  of  Knockpatrick, 
which  commands  an  extensive  view  of  the  whole  valley  of 
the  Lower  Shannon,  including  a  large  portion  of  the  coun- 
ties of  Limerick,  Clare  and  the  north  of  Kerry,  with  parts 
of  Tipperary  and  Galway,  overlooking  inumerable  hills  and 
valleys,  castles,  villas,  hamlets  and  villages,  with  a  still 
greater  number  of  mud  hovels,  and  miserable  cottages,  gives 
great  variety  and  strong  contrast  to  the  scene. 

The  town  itself  is  not  very  thrifty,  though  fair  for  the 
west  of  Ireland.  The  greatest  beauties  are  outside  ;  and  I 
was  told  there  were  many  places  of  great  interest  in  the 
history  and  legends  of  the  country  situated  in  the  vicinity, 
such  as  Drumdeely  castle,  close  on  the  bank  of  the  Shannon, 
the  parochial  church,  a  part  of  which  is  in  ruins,  the  village 
of  Shana-crolden,  near  which  are  the  ruins  of  Manistir-na- 
Gillagh,  and  Shanet  castle,  where  originated  the  famous 
war-cry  of  the  clans  of  Desmonds,  "  Shanet-a-boo,"  which 
rung  through  Munster  in  opposition  to  the  "  Crom-a-boo" 
of  the  Fitzgeralds,  of  Leinster.  The  interference  of  the 
English  in  favor  of  the  latter,  who  more  readily  accepted 
the  reformed  religion,  succeeded  in  a  conquest  against  the 
former,  who  were  mostly  slain  or  expatriated,  and  the  vast 
estates  given  to  the  former ;  and  thus  a  new  set  of  oppres- 
sors was  created. 

It  will  be  found,  all  through  the  west  of  Ireland,  that 
many  of  the  noblemen  who  were  originally  French,  were 
forcibly  supplanted  by  the  English  who  have  never  felt  much 
real  sympathy  for  the  people,  simply  holding  them  as- vassals. 
Hence  the  cause  of  the  frequent  disturbances,  and  the  con- 
tinual hatred,  dissatisfaction,  discord,  and  misery  which  pre- 
vails in  this  portion  of  the  country. 

The  races  have  not  coalesced  ;  no  genuine  friendship  sub- 
sists between  them.  The  small  farmers  and  laborers  look 
upon  the  landlords  as  their  worst  enemies,  whose  sole  ob- 
ject is  to  wrench  from  them  the  last  farthing  they  can  get. 
And  in  their  hate  and  spite,  they,  like  all  others  actuated  by 


220 


NEGLIGENCE  OF  TENANTS. 


wrong  and  vengeful  motives,  deprive  themselves  of  the 
means  of  comfort,  for  the  mere  fun,  it  would  seem,  of 
trying  to  torment  others.  They  will  not  improve  their 
lands  for  fear  the  landlords  will  raise  on  the  rents — never 
considering  that,  if  they  should  make  an  acre,  rented  at  10s. 
which  now*  produces  not  over  £3  or  £4  income,  pro- 
duce £12  or  £15 — as  much  land  is  capable  of  doing — they 
would  be  the  gainers  although  the  landlord  should  increase 
the  rent  to  20s.  or  30s.  They  have  so  much  respect  for 
principle,  or  rather,  such  a  bitter  malignity  against  the 
landlords,  that  they  prefer  to  dwell  in  filth  and  starve,  than 
to  do  any  thing  to  benefit  themselves  if  their  oppressors  are 
to  reap  any  advantage  from  it  at  the  same  time. 

This  is  about  the  only  explanation  which  can  be  given 
of  the  poverty  and  social  degradation  of  a  large  portion  of 
the  people.  There  are  other  causes,  no  doubt,  which  con- 
duce, indirectly,  to  the  same  unfortunate  and  miserable 
state  of  things.  And  it  may  be  as  well  stated  here  as  any 
where,  that  the  wicked  negligence,  oppression,  and  tyranny 
of  many  landlords,  and  their  worse  agents,  have  tended  in 
a  great  degree,  to  produce  this  condition.  Many  landlords 
rarely  come  to  see  their  properties,  and  know  virtually 
nothing  about  their  lands  or  tenants.  Several  never  visit 
the  country  in  their  lives,  and  very  many  never  more  than 
once  or  twice,  and  they  do  not  stay  but  a  few  days — nor 
then  give  half  the  attention  to  the  real  condition  of  the 
people  that  an  observing  tourist  would  in  half  the  time. 
They  live  in  London,  or  on  their  estates  in  different  parts 
of  the  kingdom,  or,  it  may  be,  at  Interlarken,  or  some  where 
else  on  the  continent,  where  they  can  live  cheap  and  cut  a 
big  dash,  with  their  limited  incomes  ;  never  reflecting  that 
by  coming  to  live  upon  their  properties,  and  devoting  some 
attention  to  the  science  of  agriculture,  ditching,  manuring, 
and  improving  their  lands,  they  could  enrich  themselves, 
and  improve  the  condition  of  their  tenants,  and  soon  be 
able  to  pay  off  their  honest  debts,  and  make  a  fair  and  hon- 


LANDLORDS   AND   AGENTS.  221 

orable  appearance  amongst  honest,  honorable,  and  truly 
Christian  people. 

As  it  is,  they  trust  all  to  heartless  agents,  whose  sole  ob- 
ject is  to  wrench  out,  each  year,  all  they  possibly  can,  both  to 
secure  their  own  per  centage.  and  satisfy  their  needy  employ- 
ers, caring  no  more  for  the  tenants  than  for  beasts.  Every 
thing  is  trusted  in  their  hands,  and  they,  by  the  habits  of 
their  lives,  are  rarely  men  of  comprehensive  and  far-seeing 
views — of  generous  and  forbearing  souls.  Their  business, 
and  the  men  they  have  to  deal  with,  both  above  and  be- 
low, disqualify  them  from  giving  much  attention  to  any 
thing  like  improvement ;  for  they  have  little  confidence  in 
either,  nor  much  in  themselves,  except  to  make  what  they 
can  out  of  both,  while  entrusted  with  a  stewardship.  They 
know  the  landlords  care  for  little  but  their  ease,  and  rents, 
and  roast  beef,  and  plum-pudding,  and  pot  of  beer,  and  a 
gay  time  at  the  club-room  ;  and  that  their  tenants  can  not 
hate  them  much  worse  if  distrained  every  quarter  for  their 
rent.  So  they  manage,  by  going  armed,  to  collect  the  op- 
pressive  tributes. 


THE  TENURE   OF  LANDS  A  CAUSE  OF  MISERY. 

It  can  hardly  be  expected  the  small  farmers,  mere 
•*  tenants-at-will,"  will  enter  into  any  comprehensive  sys- 
tem of  improvements.  The  tenure  by  which  they  could  hope 
to  reap  any  thing  like  a  fair  reward  for  their  labor,  is  so 
precarious,  so  subject  to  the  whim  and  interest  of  the  land- 
lord or  agent,  that  there  is  poor  encouragement  for  them. 
Besides,  few  have  either  the  knowledge  or  the  means  to 
carry  out  any  system  of  improvement  which  presents  a 
prospect  of  future  recompense  for  their  outlay,  even  where 
they  have  leases  of  five,  ten,  or  twenty  years. 

In  some  places  where  we  have  been,  such  leases  exist, 
but  in  almost  every  instance  a  renewal  of  them  is  refused, 
and  the  tenantry  is  ejected  to  make  room  for  higher  rents, 
or  another  class,  more  suitable  to  the  landlord  or  agent. 

19* 


V 


222  IRISH   AND   AMERICAN  LANDLORDISM. 

In  a  vast  many  cases  a  large  amount  is  realized  by  re- 
leasing the  mere  right  to  live  on  the  land  for  a  fixed  time. 
The  competition  for  such  a  privilege  is  often  very  great,  te- 
nants being  frequently  obliged  to  give  as  high  as  £15  or  £20 
an  acre,  when  the  lease  has  only  a  few  years  to  run.  One 
gentleman  told  me  of  an  instance  in  Ulster,  where  the  te- 
nant himself  sold  out  his  "  right,"  which  had  but  nine  years 
to  run,  for  £12,  (860,)  an  acre,  the  land  paying  a  rent  of 
30s.  ($7.50,)  an  acre,  annually.  Pretty  dear  land  we 
should  call  that  in  our  country.* 

There  is,  among  the  "  squatters"  on  our  new  lands,  a 
similar  practice  of  selling  out  their  "  betterments,"  includ- 
ing all  the  improvements  they  have  made  upon  it.  But 
the  "  tenant-right,"  where  it  exists,  includes  nothing  but 
the  mere  peaceable  holding  of  a  certain  property  for  a  spe- 
cified period.  All  the  improvements  belong  to  the  owner 
of  the  soil. 

Some  idea  can  be  formed  of  Irish  landlordism,  by  the 
tenants  of  the  Patroon,  who  have,  of  late,  made  so  much 
noise  about  "  anti-rentism."  But  they  have  not  a  tithe  of 
the  reason  for  complaint  of  the  best  tenants  here,  although 
a  somewhat  similar  principle  is  concerned.  The  exclusive, 
hereditary,  and  anti-republican  system  of  our  American 
lords  is  not  secured  by  quite  so  many  feudal  tenures  nor 
hedged  up  quite  so  securely  from  the  invasion  of  moral 
sentiment,  and  the  spirit  of  equal  rights,  as  is  the  landlord- 
ism of  Ireland.  The  same  feeling  burns  deeply  in  Irish 
hearts,  but  they  are  so  crushed  that  no  opportunity  is  given 
for  any  thing  like  a  fair  expression  of  it. 

In  our  western  States,  if  a  man  "  squats"  on  a  piece  of 
land  which  has  not  yet  come  into  market,  improves  it,  builds 
a  house,  and  provides  himself  a  home,  he  is  understood  to 
have  a  sort  of  "  pre-emption  right."    He  and  his  neighbors 

*  "  I  have  known  a  tenant  bid  for  a  farm  that  I  was  perfectly  well  acquainted 
with,  worth  jC50  a  year.  I  saw  the  competition  get  up  to  such  an  extent, 
that  he  was  declared  the  tenant  at  jC450." — Evidence  of  Mr.  Hurley,  of 
Trai.ee,  before  Poor  Com.,  p.  851. 


SQUATTERS   I IV   NEW  STATES. 


223 


understand  that  nobody  has  any  right  to  molest  him.  And 
if  any  avaricious  speculator  should  have  the  temerity  to 
come  in  competition  with  him  at  the  land-sale,  and  run  the 
price  above  what  is  understood  to  be  a  fair  value  of  the 
land,  and  so  secure  the  fee  to  it,  he  would  find  it  a  difficult 
matter  to  obtain  the  peaceable  possession,  without  first  pur- 
chasing the  consent  of  the  "squatter."  He  and  all  the 
neighborhood  would  rise,  at  once,  against  the  intruder, 
whose  purse  happened  to  be  a  little  longer  than  the  poor 
man's  whose  sweat  had  given  to  the  land  all  the  value  that 
raised  it  above  the  simple  government  price.  This  may  be 
called  a  "  resistance  of  the  law,"  but,  in  its  working,  it  is 
the  exhibition  of  a  high  moral  sentiment,  vastly  more  just 
and  conservative  than  the  legal  enactments  of  partisan 
legislators,  passed  by  men  no  less  susceptible  to  the  influ- 
ence of  private  interest  than  the  honest,  humble,  and 
simple-hearted  people,  who  have  a  sense  of  what  is  justice 
between  man  and  man,  and  who  will  not  willingly  allow 
their  homes  and  hard  earnings  to  be  wrenched  from  them 
without  resistance. 

The  result  of  this  "  forcible  resistance  of  law  and  order" 
has  had  a  most  excellent  effect  in  the  settlement  of  our  new 
States.  Adventurers  who  were  willing  to  pursue  an  honor- 
able vocation,  and,  by  their  own  labor,  "  turn  the  wilderness 
into  a  fruitful  field,"  and  make  the  "  desert  blossom  as  the 
rose,"  felt  a  degree  of  security  that  they  should  not  be  mo- 
lested, that  their  neighbors  would  stand  by  them  and  prevent 
their  forcible  expulsion  from  their  property  on  the  land,  by 
greedy  and  heartless  speculators  who  cared  for  nothing  but 
to  grow  rich  upon  other  people's  earnings.  In  few,  or  no 
instances  have  these  rough  and  hardy  borderers,  the  pioneers 
of  civilization,  been  guilty  of  any  refusal  to  meet  the  price 
of  land  as  fixed  by  government,  though  they  would  fight  to 
the  last  drop  of  blood,  to  prevent  the  invasion  of  their  rights 
by  a  set  of  blood-hound  speculators  who  have  tracked 
them,  at  every  remove,  to  their  forest  homes,  and  waited  for 
another  opportunity  to  pounce  upon  them  and  drive  them 


324 


DISCRIMINATING  REVENGE. 


from  their  improvements  without  a  fair  recompense  for  their 
labor.  All  true  growth  in  this  world  is  from  the  seed  to 
the  tree.  And  this  principle  has  become  law,  and  given 
"pre-emption  rights"  to  all  actual  settlers  on  unsold  lands. 

A  similar  principle  I  find  in  this  country,  cherished,  or 
rather  lurking,  in  the  hearts  of  the  people.  But  it  lacks 
form,  and  method,  manifesting  itself  only  in  cowardly  acts 
of  assassination  or  a  dogged  indifference  to  all  the  rational 
and  decent  comforts  of  life — willing  to  starve  themselves 
and  families  for  the  sake  of  tormenting  their  landlords,  it 
is  no  uncommon  thing  to  hear  of  the  shooting  of  land- 
lords or  their  agents,  under  circumstances  apparently  the 
most  aggravated  on  both  sides.  I  have  read  of  several  such 
occurrences  since  I  have  been  in  the  country,  and  had  them 
confirmed  by  the  most  unquestionable  authority.  I  had  sup- 
posed the  reports  were  fictions,  for  I  did  not  suppose  that,  in 
a  country  so  watched  by  armies  of  soldiers  and  policemen, 
there  could  be  any  danger  of  personal  violence,  such  as 
often  goes  across  the  water  in  the  newspapers.  But  I  find 
it  all  confirmed,  and  in  its  worst  possible  aspects.  Indeed, 
it  is  no  infrequent  thing  for  a  landlord  or  his  agent,  to  be 
shot  dead  while  riding  in  his  carriage  to  or  from  church,  or 
about  his  regular  business.  I  have  felt  some  alarm  at  our 
own  safety  in  traveling  in  so  savage  a  country,  for  actually 
the  cases  of  shooting  are  more  frequent  here  than  on  the 
borders  of  our  Indian  territories. 

But,  on  inquiry,  I  have  found  that  there  is  a  careful  dis- 
crimination in  the  objects  of  this  fatal  spite  ;  that  it  is  not 
against  a  class,  a  reckless  hate  and  violence,  but  in  retalia- 
tion for  personal  injuries,  which  they  honestly  believe  to  be 
the  cause  of  the  suffering  which  has  destroyed  their  wives 
and  children,  and  threatens  their  own  lives.  It  is  a  sort  of 
desperation  which  frequently  accompanies  starvation.* 

*  "  Take  away  the  greatest  cause  of  agitation  ;  give  leases  and  act  fairly 
by  the  tenant,  and  the  agitator's  occupation  is  almost  gone." — Foster's  Let- 
ters, p.  141. 


NEGLIGENT   LANDLORDS.  2'25 

The  case  stands  thus.  The  principal — almost  the  entire, 
support  of  the  common  Irish  population,  is  derived  from  the 
cultivation  of  the  land.  If  a  man  can  get  a  few  roods,  at 
anv  thing  like  a  fair  rent,  he  is  satisfied,  and  counts  himself 
happv  ;  he  goes  to  work  with  a  good  heart,  according  to  his  . 
best  knowledge,  secures  a  livelihood,  and  pays  his  rent 
promptlv.  if  he  is  fortunate  enough  to  have  good  land,  favor- 
able seasons,  and  a  high  market.  But  here  are  the  contin- 
gencies which  produce  Ireland's  miseries  and  ceaseless  agi- 
tation, and  lead  to  the  unlawful  and  inhuman  acts  of  vio- 
lence before  alluded  to. 

In  the  first  place,  few  Irishmen  have  good  landlords,  or 
get  their  lands  at  fair  rents.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the 
landlords — be  they  English,  Irish,  or  Scotch,  are  necessarily 
bad  men.  or  inhuman.  I  speak  of  them  as  landlords :  in 
which  capacity.  I  understand  them  to  be  morally  under 
solemn  obligations  to  do  right  by  themselves,  their  families, 
their  tenants,  the  neighborhood,  and  the  nation.  For  what 
has  God,  (?)  or  the  government,  entrusted  them  with  the  ex- 
clusive right  to  the  soil,  from  which  man  and  beast  are  fed, 
if  it  is  not  to  make  it  a  source  of  productive  increase  to  the 
means  of  life  and  comfort  r* 

"  Where  orddtart  attotios  to  an  estate,  and  to  a  tenantry  has  been  ex- 
hibited, we  have  seen  the  value  of  the  estate  "  trebled  in  eighteen  years,"  and 
the  people  made  comfortable  and  happy." — Ibid,  p.  414. 

*  ■  The  S3CAT.T.  gentry,  or  ■  squireens/  as  they  are  called — men  of  j£300 
or  £400,  $1,500  or  $2,000)  a  tear  strengthen  these  failings  by  the  most 
ridiculous  pride.  Such  men  are  too  proud  to  send  their  son's  into  counting- 
houses  of  merchants,  to  learn  some  business  and  fight  their  own  way  as  good 
citizens,  and  they  are  too  poor  to  bring  them  up  to  professions ;  but  they  will 
raiee  heaven  and  earth  in  patronage-hunting  to  get  a  son  into  the  Post  Office, 
at  £80  or  JC100  a  year.  Their  pride  is  sufficient  to  prevent  their  seeking  inde- 
pendence by  praiseworthy  and  honest  industry  and  enterprise,  but  is  not  suffi- 
cient to  prevent  their  becoming  slaves  and  sycophants  of  every  1  great  man,' 
for  the  most  paltry  advantages." — Ibid,  p.  166.  A  two  edged  sword,  in  un- 
skilful hands :  W  hy  did  not  the  "  Times  Commissioner"  propose  a  way  they 
might  work — yes — work  ■  with  their  own  hands,"  and  till  the  waste  lands 
and  make  them  productive  ?  And  why  do  not  the  great  gentry  or  Squir- 
magxates,  and  noblemen,  show  an  example  to  humble  men  I    We  Americans 


22G 


RIGHTS   IN   THE  SOIL. 


Very  well  ;  they  are  too  rich,  or  proud,  or  lazy,  to  till  the 
land  themselves,  and  so  entrust  the  management  of  it  to 
others,  retaining  to  themselves  the  right  to  an  income  suffi- 
cient to  supply  their  necessities  and  luxuries,  and  enable 
them  to  maintain  a  degree  of  ease  and  splendor  suited  to 
their  tastes  or  the  circles  in  which  they  move.  Now  all  this 
I  will  not  object  to,  for  so  is  the  practice  of  the  world.  But 
I  might  go  back  and  question  their  titles,  asking  in  whose 
name  they  got  possession  of  those  fifty,  or  one  hundred,  or 
two  hundred  thousand  acres  of  God's  earth,  made  for  human 
homes — for  "  the  earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the  fulness  there- 
of," and  he  "  has  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men,  for 
to  dwell  on  all  the  face  of  the  earth,"  so  that  each  man  has 
a  right  to  life,  and  the  means  of  it  which  come  out  of  the 
ground,  provided  he  uses  proper  diligence  to  obtain  it.  At 
least,  society  has  no  right  to  throw  about  restrictions  to  ex- 
clude him  from  such  opportunity. 

I  may  be  told  it  was  William,  or  Henry,  or  James, 
or  Cromwell,  or  Charles  II,  or  Elizabeth,  or,  if  preferred, 
the  O'Neils,  the  Desmonds,  the  McCarthys,  the  O'Briens, 
or  even  Brian  Boroihme,  or  Saint  Patrick,  whose  gracious 
benignity  secured  to  their  noble  progenitors  the  exclusive 
right  to  the  soil  in  perpetuity  forever.  But  how  came  they 
by  such  power  over  God's  heritage,  to  slice  up  His  earth, 
which  was  made  for  all  His  children  as  much  as  air  and 
water,  and  parcel  it  out  with  such  discriminating  par- 
tiality ?  If  they  assume  to  rule  in  His  name,  and  by 
divine  right,  as  His  appointed  emissaries,  they  should  be 
careful  to  obey  His  revealed  will,  lest  they  awake  His  dis- 
pleasure !  But  this  is  not  the  point.  I  go  not  backwards 
now  to  inquire  into  titles,  because  the  aristocratic  will  not 
hear  me,  or  will  feign  not  to  understand  me ;  and  it  would 
do  the  rest  no  immediate  good  if  they  did. 

I  return,  then,  to  the  position  which  the  landlord  takes, 

look  upon  the  assumptions  of  British  nobility  as  a  very  small — but  exceeding- 
ly wicked  thing. 


Ireland's  responsibility. 


227 


that,  being  in  possession  of  the  fee  to  a  certain  tract  of 
God's  earth,  he  has  a  right  to  a  support  from  it ;  nay,  to  all 
the  income  he  can  make  it  yield  him.  Very  well !  So 
much  we  yield  him,  not  because  it  is  right,  but  because  it 
is  law  and  custom.  He  can  ask  no  more.  Now,  what 
does  he  do  with  his  vast  heritage  of  land  ?  Does  he  come  to 
it,  and,  like  a  prudent  and  wise  man,  provide  for  its  best 
management,  so  as  to  yield  him  a  rich  income  ?  Does  he 
overlook  it,  and  inquire  into  the  best  means  of  recovering 
what  is  waste  and  unproductive  ?  Does  he  look  after  his 
tenantry,  and  see  that  they  are,  first  of  all,  made  comforta- 
ble, and  qualified  to  work  to  advantage  for  the  best  good 
of  the  property  ?#  It  would  seem  that  mere  self-interest, 
the  narrowest  (but  perhaps  strongest)  motive  to  action, 
would  prompt  him  to  do  so,  to  say  nothing  about  the  ' 
broader  principles  of  justice,  humanity,  and  religion. 

But  no ;  he  does  no  such  thing ;  probably  not  in  one 
case  in  a  hundred.  He  stays  away,  and  knows  virtually 
nothing  of  the  condition  of  his  estates,  or  of  his  ten,  or 
twenty,  or  a  hundred  thousand  tenants— has  never  seen 
either,  and  never  wrants  to,  so  long  as  he  gets  rent  enough 
to  support  him  some  where  else.  He  was  born  out  of  the 
country,  is  alien  to  all  upon  or  about  his  property,  and 
though  an  Irishman,  he  has  learned  to  hate  his  country, 

*  "  The  law  of  entail  and  settlement  charges  on  property  often  so  cripple  the 
landowners  that  they  are  frequently,  as  compared  with  their  nominal  property, 
poor  men  ;  extravagant  habits,  family  pride  to  live  befitting  the  nominal  in- 
come, load  the  estates  of  such  men  with  incumbrances,  until,  at  length,  the 
dernier  resort  of  an  Irish  landlord  is  taken:  he  flies  to  Florence  and  lives 
at  an  hotel,  where  at  the  table  d'hote  he  can  boast  of  his  Irish  acres — or  he 
resides  in  London,  in  lodgings,  and  in  obscurity.  In  either  case,  there  is  no 
capital  for  the  benefit  of  Ireland.  In  the  one  place  capital  can  never  be  cre- 
ated, in  the  other  case  it  is  sunk  and  wasted.  The  land  is  left  to  the  manage- 
ment of  agents,  or  it  gets  into  the  hands  of  the  receivers  in  Chancery — in  either 
of  which  cases  there  is  but  one  object — to  extract  as  much  rent  as  possible. 
With  such  a  state  of  things,  the  want  of  employment,  the  distress  and  misery, 
and  the  disturbances  of  Ireland,  under  whatever  name,  are  not  difficult  to  be 
accounted  for." — Foster's  Letters  ox  Ireland,  p.  67. 


228 


EVIL   OF   ABSENTEE  LANDLORDS. 


and  despise  his  countrymen.  He  has  heard,  through  his 
venal  agent,  a  most  horrid  account  of  the  savageness  of 
the  inhabitants,  made  so  by  his  own  abusive  conduct,  or 
cruel  neglect,  and  does  not  care  to  visit  them.* 

Every  where  we  hear  censures  heaped  upon  absentee 
landlords. f  Now,  if  they  were  at  home,  where  they  be- 
long, looking  after  their  interests,  they  would  not  be  for 
ever  draining  the  country  of  all  its  income,  to  squander  it 
at  foreign  courts,  and  thus  leave  it  impoverished,  but  would 
spend  it  where  it  would  do  some  good,  enrich  the  country, 
and  increase  the  value  of  the  properties  and  the  comforts 
of  the  people. J 

The  second  evil  I  mention,  as  a  prolific  cause  of  the  present 
misery  of  Ireland,  is  the  conduct  of  the  agents  who  stand  be- 
-  tween  the  owner  and  cultivator  of  the  soil.  In  some  cases, 
these  agents  are  appointed  by  the  landlord  and  act  directly 

*  "  We  are  under  agents  and  bailiffs,  who  have  no  feeling  for  the  people, 
our  landlord  being  an  absentee  nobleman.  He  never  comes  near  us  to  see  if 
we  are  oppressed  or  tyrannized  over.  We  should  have  some  hope  if  our  land- 
lord would  visit  us  once  a  year,  that  we  should  have  some  redress." — Fos- 
ter's Letters  ox  Ireland,  p.  153. 

t "  To  speak  plainly  :  to  hear  a  nation  bawling  out  misery  and  beggary, 
and  to  see  such  numbers  of  her  wise  and  good  children  fluttering  about  the 
world  in  splendor  and  magnificence,  seems,  at  first  sight,  an  irreconcilable 
contradiction.  People  that  have  common  sense,  humanity,  and  honesty  them- 
selves, will  be  apt  to  suppose  them  in  others,  and  can  hardly  believe  that  so 
many  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of  Ireland  can  riot  and  blaze  abroad,  while  so 
many  thousands  of  their  fellow-citizens  are  starving  for  want  of  their  help  at 
home,  and  their  native  country  is  reduced  to  beggary  and  a  deadly  consumption. 
*  Even  dogs,'  they  say, 1  when  sick,  know  their  own  physic,  and  take  it  effectu- 
ally ;'  and  I  therefore  heartily  wish  many  of  our  people,  at  home  and  abroad, 
may,  for  the  future,  give  us  some  proofs  of  their  having  some  share  in  this  natural 
instinct  as  may  make  us  full  amends  for  the  want  of  all  rational  management 
of  themselves  and  their  substance,  to  prevent  our  ruin." — Preface  to  Dr. 
Madden's  work,  "  Reflections  and  Resolutions  for  the  gentlemen,  of 
Ireland." — Ibid,  p.  67. 

t "  In  the  words  of  another,  '  it  (absenteeism)  is  the  ruin  of  the  country. 
We  have  not  a  resident  landlord  within  ten  miles  of  us.  Though  there  is  be- 
tween £50,000  and  £60,000  a  year  taken  out  of  the  neighborhood,  we  do 
not  get  £100  of  it  returned.' " — Ibid,  p.  100. 


AGENTS   AND  MIDDLE-MEN. 


229 


for  him,  which  is,  perhaps,  the  least  objectionable  method, 
taken  as  a  whole,  by  the  absentee  proprietor.  But  cases 
are  not  wanting  of  their  faithlessness,  both  to  their  em- 
ployers and  the  tenants.  I  have  had  the  most  undoubted 
proofs  of  the  most  wicked  and  inhuman  treatment  of  these 
task-masters,  in  numberless  instances  ;  and  there  are  not 
wanting  evidences  of  their  treachery  and  dishonesty  to  the 
landlords  themselves.  On  large  estates,  numerous  sub- 
agents  are  employed,  who  increase  the  miseries,  and  feel 
less  compunction,  inasmuch  as  they  feel  less  responsibility.* 
The  dishonesty  and  knavery  of  the  agents  are  bad  enough, 
heaven  knows ;  but  it  is  not  half  equal  to  the  oppressions 
of  the  "  middle-men,"  as  they  are  called.  This  is  a  class 
of  petty  landlords,  a  kind  of  stock-jobbers,  who  hire  large 
tracts  of  land  at  cheap  rents,  and  then  underlet  them  in 
small  portions,  at  enormous  prices. f    This  is  done  in  vari- 

*  "  The  landlord  and  agent  are  both  absentees,  and  it  is  a  great  loss  to  the 
tenantry  upon  a  large  estate,  when  it  happens  so.  I  think  it  would  be  better 
if  one  or  both  of  them  were  living  upon  the  estate." — Land  Com.,  p.  159. 

"  You  may  say  nineteen-twentieths  of  this  barony  are  owned  by  ab- 
sentees."— p.  144. 

t  "  The  majority  of  the  landlords  are  non-residents,  and  very  much  of  the 
land  is  let  to  middlemen  on  leases.  The  land  is  thus  taken  out  of  the  manage- 
ment of  the  landlord,  and  the  middle-man,  having  no  permanent  interest  in  it, 
covers  it  with  a  pauper  tenantry,  from  which  he  exacts  a  competition  rent, 
and  at  the  end  of  his  term  renders  it  up  to  the  landlord  to  deal  with  as  he 
can.  The  land  being  generally  hilly  and  rocky,  is  let  by  the  cow's  grass  and 
not  by  the  acre.  A  tenant  can  live  pretty  comfortably  on  about  ten  cows' 
grass.  '  Land  ranges  from  £2  to  ,£4  rent,  by  a  cow's  grass,  according  to  the 
quality  and  quantity  of  the  pasture.'  (Evidence  of  Mr.  Eugene  O'Sullivan, 
of  Westcove,  four  miles  from  Derrynane,  O'Connel's  residence.)  The  sub- 
division, however,  amongst  the  tenants,  especially  near  the  sea-shore,  has  gone 
on  to  such  an  extent,  that  most  of  them  have  not  more  than  a  cow's  grass 
a-piece  to  live  upon.  This  will  give  a  clue  to  their  poverty.  A  cow,  on  fair 
good  land,  in  this  part  of  Kerry,  will  yield  a  firkin  and  a  half  of  butter  a 
year.  A  firkin  of  butter  is  worth  £2  15s. ;  a  firkin  and  a-half  will  therefore 
leave  about  £4  a  year,  and  the  rent  is  from  £2  to  £4  for  this  cow's  grass. 
A  patch  of  land  is  manured  with  sea-weed  and  shell  sand,  which  the  poor, 
barefooted  women  carry  in  hampers  on  their  backs  great  distances,  and  on 
this  they  raise  their  potatoes  for  a  year's  consumption.    The  value  of  their 


230 


COTTIERS  THE   MAIN  SUFFERERS. 


ous  ways.  They  some  times,  and  the  more  honorable 
ones,  or  less  knavish,  simply  stand  in  the  character  of  an 
agent  responsible  for  the  rent,  and  are  careful  to  put  an  addi- 
tional price,  abundantly  sufficient  to  secure  themselves 
from  the  possibility  of  any  loss.  Many  get  long  and  cheap 
leases  from  bankrupt  landlords,  and  go  to  work  and  build 
towns,  mills,  and  factories,  drain  lands,  and  make  other  per- 
manent improvements,  as  if  the  property  was  actually  their 
own. 

It  is  not  unfrequent  that  such  men  amass  large  fortunes, 
and,  in  turn,  lease  their  rights  to  an  other  class,  who  be- 
come more  greedy  of  gain,  and  vastly  worse  oppressors 
than  the  land  owners.*  Some  times  this  subletting  is  car- 
ried down,  by  these  speculators  in  human  rights  and  mise- 
ries, to  the  fourth  and  fifth  degree.  The  poor  cottier,  un- 
derlaying all,  is  doomed  to  support  the  monstrous  burden 
that  oppresses  him,  or  be  crushed  to  death. f    From  the 

butter  hardly  pays  their  rent,  and  the  buttermilk  and  potatoes  are  the  only 
food  or  means  of  subsistence  which  the  small  tenants  have.  The  laborers 
are  worse  off;  they  have  not  the  buttermilk." — Foster's  Letters  on  Ire- 
land, p.  389. 

*  "  The  middle  classes  live  by  subletting,  and  subletting,  and  again  sublet- 
ting the  land,  at  increased  rentals.  This  is  the  extent  of  their  enterprise." — 
Ibid,  p.  145. 

t "  In  filthiness  and  squalid  poverty,  starving  on  a  rood  of  land,  with  miles  of 
waste  land  around  him,  which  the  application  of  knowledge  and  industry 
would  make  teem  with  plenty,  the  poor  Kerry  farmer  exists,  in  contented 
wretchedness.  Neglected  by  his  landlord,  he  knows  nothing  beyond  the 
growing  of  potatoes  ;  oppressed  by  the  hard  fisted  middle-man,  who  lives  by 
squeezing  another  rent  out  of  his  industry,  he  is  steeped  in  hopeless  poverty  ; 
cheated  and  robbed  by  the  bailiffs  and  drivers,  who  extort  from  him  his  la>t 
sixpence  for  rent,  and  their  fees ;  and  pounced  upon  by  the  middle-man  for  an 
increased  rent,  if  he  improves  an  acre  of  land,  he  learns  cheating  and  extortion 
from  his  betters,  and  practices  both  on  the  wretched  being  who  labors  on  his 
farm.  In  a  hovel  like  a  pigsty,  in  which  it  is  impossible  to  stand  upright,  with- 
out chimney  and  without  window,  with  but  one  room,  an  iron  pot,  and  a  rude 
bedstead,  with  some  straw  litter,  as  the  only  furniture,  bed,  or  bed-clothes, 
the  laborer,  in  the  midst  of  half  a  dozen  nearly  naked  children,  with  his  bare- 
footed wife,  sits  squatted  on  the  mud  floor,  round  the  peat  fire.  A  garden- 
plot  of  potatoes  is  their  whole  subsistence,  and  for  this  patch  of  land,  and  the 


CON-ACRES. 


231 


pores  of  his  skin  oozes  out  the  sweat  which  circulates  life 
and  fashion  up  to  the  nobleman  who  sits  in  the  House  of 
Lords.,  figures  at  the  exchequer,  bears  the  trail  of  Mrs.  Vic- 
toria Guelph,  or  loiters,  with  his  family,  about  the  cities  and 
watering  places  of  the  continent.  He  supports  the  petty 
aristocracy,  so  abundant  in  all  Irish  towns,  in  addition,  and 
then  is  called  lazy,  indolent,  and  worthless,  and  sneered  at 
as  unfit  to  live  in  such  a  bountiful  and  beautiful  country. 
His  very  birth-place  is  begrudged  him,  and.  in  cold  charity, 
he  is  helped  off  to  America  or  Australia !  Merciful  hea- 
ven! Is  there  no  justice  left  in  human  hearts  ?  Xo  com- 
passion for  the  wrongs  and  ills  of  a  poor  and  distressed  people  ? 

And  then  the  larger  farmers,  learning  the  method,  and 
imbibing  the  spirit  from  their  superiors,  will  split  up  their 
farms  and  let  them  out  by  the  year  in  a  con-acres,"  at  ex- 
orbitant prices,  sometimes  as  high  as  £5,  £?;  and  even 
£10.*  A  con- acre''  is  a  piece  of  land  plowed  and  manur- 
ed. Every  system  is  resorted  to,  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest,  to  spunge  out  something  from  the  next  below,  and 
set  at  ease  upon  their  necks.  It  is  no  wonder  that  the  Irish 
are  proverbially  suspicious,  and  jealous  of  every  body. 
Their  whole  training  tends  to  induce  such  a  condition  of 

CD 

mind.  They  are  oppressed,  cheated,  and  neglected  by  the 
"  noble,'''  and  nobody  seems  to  show  the  least  regard  for 

hovel  which  shelters  him  and  his  family,  his  labor  is  sold  to  some  farmer,  who 
Jets  him  his  land  and  hovel  for  a  year." — Foster's  Letters  ox  Ireland,  p. 

*  A  Case.-'*  The  proprietor  in  fee,  is  Mr.  Alderman  Harty,  who  purchased 
from  an  individual  in  whose  favor  it  had  been  confiscated  after  the  battle  of 
Aughrim,  in  the  revolution  of  16SS.  Mr.  Harty  receives  9d.  per  acre  from 
Major  Warburton,  the  first  lessee  ;  Mr.  Handy  pays  under  an  old  lease,  2s, 
6d.  an  acre  to  Major.  W.  John  North  holds  under  Mr.  Handy,  and  pays  6s. 
an  acre  ;  John  North  has  sublet  to  several  small  tenants,  and  receives  from 
them  on  an  average  of  £1.  7s.  an  acre."' — Poor  Inquiry,  Ireland,  Ap.  F. 
p.  142 

"And  sometimes  the  farmers,  in  such  cases,  to  enable  them  to  pay  these 
high  rents,  let  out  fragments  of  land  manured  to  cottiers,  in  what  is  termed 
1  Con-acre/  for  which  the  general  price  is  jCS  to  £10,  the  acre." — Foster's 
Letters,  p.  70. 


232 


REDEEMING  QUALITIES. 


them.  Their  own  neighbors  are  as  overbearing  and  ungen- 
erous as  any  body  else,  and  so  they  are  taught  to  be  sus- 
picious and  hateful  of*  one  another. 

The  whole  mystery  of  the  Irish  character  has  been  solved 
and  made  plain  to  me,  since  I  have  been  among  them.  I 
would  except  those  educated  under  more  favorable  circum- 
stances ;  for  nobody  has  a  deeper  respect  and  admiration, 
almost  reverence,  for  true  human  nature  than  myself.  And 
instead  of  learning  to  hate,  I  have  come  to  love  the  Irish, 
and  to  pity  them  ;  fori  see,  even  in  the  lowest  classes,  and 
in  their  humblest  conditions,  a  living  semblance  of  the 
original  image  ;  deformed,  defaced,  and  broken,  to  be  sure  ; 
like  the  world-famed  statue  of  Venus  de  Medicis,  which 
was  dug  from  deep  ruins,  and  found  in  eighteen  fragments, 
and  some  parts  missing  at  that  ;  and  I  have  faith  that  some 
moral  or  social  Michael  Angelo  will  yet  arise,  and,  with  pro- 
per encouragement,  clear  away  the  rubbish  and  give  form 
and  direction  to  the  latent,  natural  qualities,  which,  it  is  by 
all  acknowledged,  the  Irish  possess  in  no  mean  degree. 

This  suggests  the  remark,  that  all  the  "  agitations"  of  O'- 
Connel,  and  "Repeal"  doctrines  of  CVBrian,  or  ''Catholic 
Reform  Bills,"  or  "  Irish  Poor  Laws,"  "  Rate-in-aid,"  and 
every  thing  of  the  kind,  will  accomplish  little  more  than  a 
pleasing  dream  to  the  advocates  of  the  respective  measures. 
They  do  not.  reach  the  cause  of  the  evil.  They  may  palliate 
the  symptoms,  soothe  the  agitation,  and  prolong  the  crisis. 
But  the  disease  remains  untouched ;  the  virus  continues 
to  circulate,  and  the  whole  system  sinks  deeper  and  deeper 
into  an  incurable  typhoid. 

The  great  curse  of  Ireland  is  a  social  one,  and  lays 
deeper  than  political  agitation,  or  forcible  revolutions.  The 
repeal  of  the  Union  could  not  touch  it ;  but  most  likely 
would  aggravate  the  evils ;  for  there  is  no  sympathy,  no 
confidence  in  Irish  hearts,  and  there  can  be  no  union  or 
concert  of  action.  I  mean  there  is  no  sympathy  for  any 
thing  like  political,  associated  action.  There  are  not  in  the 
masses  the  necessary  qualities  of  self-government.  Men 


WHAT  PARLIAMENT  CAN  DO. 


233 


must  be  and  feel  free,  before  they  can  establish  a  free  govern- 
ment ; — must  be  republicans  before  they  can  establish  a 
republic  ;  must  love  their  fellow-men,  have  confidence  in 
them.,  and  respect  their  rights,  before  they  can  hope  to  unite 
in  a  successful  revolution,  or  achieve  any  great  measure  of 
reform  in  which  all  can  participate. 

I  dislike, — radical  as  I  am,  to  be  obliged  to  say  these 
ihings,  in  this  place  ;  but  I  am  here  an  observer  and  a  friend 
to  all.  My  sympathies  are  with  the  people  always.  I  have 
no  respect  for  wigs  nor  miters,  crowns  nor  coronets.  But  I 
love  humanity  and  pity  those  who  are  suffering  wrong.  I  al- 
wavs  prefer  the  stammering  approbation  of  the  poor  man, 
whose  stifled  words  and  tearful  eyes  tell  his  sincerity,  than  the 
condescending  and  patronizing  attention  of  any  proud  aristo- 
crat. Yet,  with  all  my  faith  in  humanity,  and  love  for  free- 
dom, religious  and  political,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  com- 
mon remedies  proposed  for  Ireland  are  specific  or  sufficient. 

Parliament  can  do  something,  but  not  by  "  Repealing  the 
Union,"  or  passing  "  Rate-in-aid"  bills,  or  building  work- 
houses, or  increasing  the  taxes,  or  shipping  over  money  for 
the  relief  of  the  out-door  poor.  They  must  compel  absentee 
and  bankrupt  landlords  to  pay  their  debts  like  honest  men, 
and,  if  need  be,  sequestrating  the  immense  estates  which 
have  been  enjoyed,  these  three  or  four  centuries  without 
having  ever  paid  a  stiver  for  them  ; — a  strong  dose,  but  a 
just  one  ;  for  these  properties  were  confiscated  from  their 
original  feudal  lords  and  given  by  royal  favor,  and  having 
had  them  so  long,  humanity  and  common  justice  would  alike 
indicate  the  propriety  of  taking  the  vineyard  from  these 
faithless  husbandmen  and  letting  it  to  others.  There  is  hish 
authority  for  such  a  procedure.  And  I  see  no  right  to  be 
invaded  by  it,  unless  the  long  and  uninterrupted  possession 
of  wrong  makes  it  a  right.  I  see  little  else  that  Parliament 
can  do,  unless  it  is  to  put  education  on  a  more  liberal  basis, 
making  it  include  more  than  mere  intellectual  knowledge — 
practical  science,  the  arts  of  good  husbandry,  by  normal 
schools  of  agriculture,  manufactures,  and  commerce. 

20* 


231 


MORAL   AND  SOCIAL   REMEDIES  NEEDED. 


Nobody  can  travel  in  this  country  without  deploring  the 
ignorance  which  prevails  upon  the  commonest  arts  of  life, 
even  the  means  of  domestic  cleanliness,  health  and  comfort. 
I  should  add,  in  this  place,  that  the  odious  and  onerous  tithe 
tax,  for  the  support  of  a  religion  not  believed,  and  the  plac- 
ing of  all  religions  upon  an  equal  basis,  would  greatly  facili- 
tate the  reformation  and  improvement  of  the  people,  by  re- 
moving one  of  the  causes  which  arouse  the  strongest  pas- 
sions of  their  hearts,  appealing  to  their  religious,  prejudices 
and  making  them  enemies  to  religious  men  and  measures 
which  should  direct  them  in  a  course  of  real  progress. 

But  deeper  than  Parliamentary  proceedings,  which  can 
only  aid,  a  new  and  moral  principle  must  be  brought  into 
action.  It  is  difficult  to  say  how  this  can  be  done,  or 
whether  it  ever  will  be  ;  but  one  thing  is  certain,  if  it  is  not, 
anarchy  and  final  extinction  must  overtake  this  race.  The 
people  can  not  well  begin  the  work  alone,  nor  can  the  no- 
bility or  gentry.  It  must  be  mutual.  A  spirit  of  individual 
philanthropy  must  start  it,  and  good  men,  both  high  and 
low,  rich  and  poor,  must  be  willing  to  profit  by  it.  The 
people  must  be  instructed — some  body  must  instruct  them 
— and  landlords  must  become  benefactors  instead  of  oppres- 
sors. They  must  become  Christians,  and  be  willing  to 
serve  and  be  served,  spend  and  be  spent.  And  vice  versa, 
the  cottiers  must  be  willing  to  help  and  be  helped.  They 
must  not,  as  now,  seek  revenge  of  the  landlords,  and  exe- 
crate and  abuse  their  agents,  by  waylaying  them  and  shoot- 
ing them  in  a  dastardly  manner,  and  thus  send  a  murderous 
report  abroad  against  the  whole  country.  Nor  must  they 
refuse  to  adopt  improvements  necessary  to  make  their  lands 
more  productive,  for  fear  the  landlords  will  raise  upon  their 
rents.  They  must  be  willing  to  join  in  any  measure 
which  will  improve  their  condition  and  brighten  their  pros- 
pects for  the  future. 

There  is  no  where  such  a  field  for  christian  philanthropy 
as  in  Ireland.  Talk  about  converting  the  heathen,  who 
speak  in  other  languages,  and  worship  other  gods.  Good 


SITUATION   OF  LIMERICK. 


235 


and  glorious  as  that  work  is,  it  does  not  compare  with  the 
opportunity  of  rescuing  the  starved,  the  oppressed,  ignorant 
and  dying  millions  of  Erin.  And  how  these  noblemen  can 
reconcile  it  with  their  consciences  to  live  in  splendor,  and 
give  freely  for  Christian  and  benevolent  objects  from  the 
exorbitant  rents  extorted  from  this  wretched  population,  is 
more  than  I  can  comprehend.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  the 
ghosts  of  their  famished  tenants  would  haunt  their  nightly 
slumbers,  stand  in  the  way  of  all  their  revels,  and  whisper 
sad  moanings  of  their  neglect  and  injustice  in  their  ears, 
as  they  kneel  at  the  altar  of  religion  ! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LIMERICK. 

Situation  of  Limerick. — A  Porter. — Railway  Station. — Scenes  of  Sin  and 
Misery. — The  Market. — Handsome  Women. — Artillery  Barracks. — Op- 
pression.— A  Wedding. — A  Catholic  Chapel. — Theory  and  Practice. — 
"  Spitting." — The  Cathedral. — Bishop's  Court. — Monuments. — A  Fino 
Landscape. — The  Citadel. — History. — Interview  with  the  Prioress  of  a 
Nunnery. — National  Schools,  their  Changes  and  Present  Condition. — Read- 
ing Room. — Newspapers. — Limerick-Stone. — Gentry. — Beggars. 


APPROACHING     THE  CITY. 

For  several  miles  along  the  shores  of  the  river,  before 
reaching  Limerick,  the  land  is  level,  and  the  hills  recede  to 
a  considerable  distance.  Close  on  the  banks  the  ground  is 
low,  a  portion  of  it  having  been  recovered  from  the  domain 
of  the  water,  by  artificial  dikes,  which  preserve  it  from  be- 
ing overflowed  by  high  tides  and  unusual  freshets.  These 
alluvial  bottoms  are  rich,  and  very  productive.  Back  of 
these,  a  broad,  undulating  plain  stretches  off  in  all  direc- 
tions, bounded  by  distant  hills  on  the  east,  south,  and  north- 
west, leaving  the  beautiful  valley  on  the  north  and  west, 


23G 


SIGNS   OF  PROSPERITY. 


through  which  winds  the  majestic  Shannon,  the  noblest 
river  in  the  United  Kingdom.  In  the  centre  of  this  vale, 
and  directly  on  a  bend  in  the  river  where  it  suddenly 
spreads  into  the  estuary,  called,  the  Lower  Shannon,  is 
situated  the  city  of  Limerick.  Several  villages,  private 
seats  and  villas,  with  old  ruined  castles  towering  up,  here 
and  there,  from  isolated  rocks  or  projecting  spurs  of  a  range 
of  hills,  add  much  to  the  grandeur  and  beauty  of  this  lovely 
region. 

The  city  itself,  as  we  approached  it  last  evening,  made  a 
far  more  imposing  appearance  than  I  had  expected  to  see 
in  this  part  of  Ireland.  The  size  and  beautiful  situation  of 
the  city,  the  character  of  its  buildings,  the  large  quantity 
of  vessels  lying  along  its  well  built  stone  quays,  as  well  as 
the  business-like  stir  and  bustle,  and  apparent  good  taste 
every  where  displayed,  greatly  surprised  and  pleased  me. 
Nor  was  I  disappointed  on  entering  the  town.  Every 
thing  I  saw,  confirmed  my  first  favorable  impressions. 
The  width  and  regularity  of  the  streets,  some  of  them 
more  than  a  mile  long,  the  elegance  of  the  houses  the  ap- 
pearances of  the  well-filled  stores  and  well-dressed  inhabi- 
tants, were  so  unlike  any  thing  I  had  anticipated,  that  I 
could  hardly  realize  that  we  were  in  the  chief  city  of  the 
west  of  Ireland.  Every  thing  bore  the  marks  of  wealth, 
prosperity,  and  refinement,  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  what  is 
common  in  our  country.  And  what  surprised  me  more, 
every  thing  appeared  fresh  and  modern.  The  houses, 
churches,  stores,  and  shops,  looked  as  if  recently  erected, 
and  with  a  full  knowledge  of  all  the  improvements  in  the 
present  system  of  utilitarian  architecture. 

My  happiness  on  beholding  these  proofs  of  prosperity, 
taste,  and  comfort,  was  inexpressible.  I  felt  relieved  from 
the  sadness  forced  upon  me  by  an  intercourse  with  the 
misery  and  degradation  I  had  just  passed  through ;  and, 
like  too  many,  almost  forgot  that  there  was  any  real  po- 
verty in  the  country,  and  wondered  whether  the  scenes  I 
have  faintly  described  were  not  dreams,  mere  figments  of  a 


DEMAND. 


237 


sickly  and  suspicious  philanthropy.  All  about  me  seemed 
to  be  cheerfulness,  activity,  pleasure,  and  contentment, 
which,  I  must  confess,  harmonized  much  better  with  my^ 
natural  feelings,  and  afforded  me  great  relief. 

The  wharf  was  lined  with  car-men,  hack-men,  hotel- 
runners,  and  ragged,  dirty  boys,  much  in  the  fashion  of  our 
cities.  As  we  had  no  need  of  either,  we  hurried  from  the 
pier  as  soon  as  possible,  budget  in  hand.  A  crowd  of  boys 
followed  us,  teasing  us  to  grant  them  the  privilege  of  car- 
rying our  sacks,  bidding  one  upon  the  other,  from  a  shilling 
to  a  ha'- penny.  At  length,  one  poor  fellow  looked  so  wo- 
begone,  and  begged  so  pitifully,  that  we  agreed  with  him 
for  a  penny.  On  arriving  at  the  hotel,  he  demanded,  in  the 
fashion  of  his  countrv,  two-pence,  just  four  times  his  offer, 
and  double  the  amount  agreed  on.  We  had  resolved  to 
dive  him  three-pence,  if  he  said  nothing.  But  these  poor 
fellows  are  so  unused  to  anything  like  voluntary  generosity, 
that  they  never  wait  to  see  the  proof  of  it. 

As  much  as  I  abhor  this  trait  of  character  every  where 
displayed,  I  do  not  marvel  at  its  existence.  It  is  conse- 
quent upon  the  system  of  social  life.  A  sort  of  grab-law 
prevails,  which  allows  every  one  to  get  what  he  can — ex- 
cept it  be  by  actual  robbery — from  the  Lord-Lieutenant 
down  to  the  boy  that  carried  our  sacks.  And  it  generally 
appears  in  the  form  of  a  demand — a  direct  tax,  levied  with- 
out an  equivalent,  which  is  the  pride  of  Yankee  traffic. 
A  tax  is  put  upon  place,  as  at  turnpike  gates,  where  he 
who  rides  alone  in  a  chaise  must  pay  double  the  toll  of  him 
who  drives  a  loaded  team ;  not  because  he  w7ears  the  road 
more,  but  is  better  dressed.  In  fact,  this  is  the  "common 
law''  of  all  monopolies,  and  the  whole  political,  social,  and 
religious  arrangement  of  Great  Britain  is  little  else  than  a 
grand  scheme  of  monopoly,  from  the  Queen  down  to  the 
renter  of  a  single  rood  of  con-acre.  The  wTaiter,  cham- 
bermaid and  boots  expect  to  be  paid,  wrhether  they  have 
seen  you  or  not,  and  the  diiver  of  the  car  or  coach,  after 
receiving  the  full  sum  agreed  on,  will  tip  his  hat  and  ask  for 


238 


ELEGANCE   AND  ECONOMY. 


"  something" — in  payment  for  his  place  and  privilege. 
The  whole  system  is  an  abominable  annoyance  to  travelers. 
May  the  good  sense  of  Americans  prevent  the  introduc- 
tion of  such  an  absurdity  into  our  country. 

After  securing  quarters,  we  strolled  about  the  town ; 
passed  a  friary,  and  a  national  school-house,  both  respecta- 
ble looking  buildings,  and  went  to  the  Dublin  railway  sta- 
tion, a  large  and  elegant  building,  built  in  a  deep  cavity  ex- 
cavated in  a  hill.  The  contrast  between  the  outlay  of  la- 
bor on  all  the  public  works  of  this  country  and  ours,  is  very 
marked.  Every  thing  here  is  done,  seemingly,  with  refer- 
ence to  durability,  and  without  much  respect  to  present 
expense  or  profit.  With  us  it  is  the  reverse.  We  flatten 
every  sixpence,  to  make  it  cover  as  much  we  can,  and 
stretch  every  wire  to  make  it  reach  as  far  as  possible. 
Ours  is  the  evidence  of  ambitious  enterprise,  of  youthful 
vigor,  and,  sometimes,  indiscretion — with  small  means,  de- 
termined to  make  the  most  of  it.  Theirs  is  cool  calcula- 
tion, and  mature  judgment,  irrespective  of  the  gold  and 
sweat  which  are  to  be  wasted  upon  it.  And,  I  must  con- 
fess, that  in  the  bridges,  station-houses,  quays,  barracks, 
poor-houses,  in  fact,  in  every  thing  that  is  modern,  there  is 
a  fair  show  of  good  taste  and  liberal  outlay,  mixed  with 
abundant  means  and  prudent  judgment.  In  our  country 
we  have  yet  to  acquire  these  attributes,  in  part.  We  may 
have  the  taste,  but  either  lack  the  means  or  judgment ;  or 
else  our  calculating  prudence— for-the  present  system — 
tells  us  that  it  would  be  bad  economy,  and  a  needless 
waste,  to  look  to  elegance  and  durability  at  the  same  time; 
that  it  is  better  to  invest  the  surplus  in  some  more  produc- 
tive stocks. 

Extravagance  is  always  to  be  avoided.  Good  taste  re- 
quires it.  But  it  is  poor  economy  to  make  a  thing  so  frail 
that  it  will  not  endure  a  year  without  repairing.  And 
then,  no  one  should  be  so  utilitarian  as  to  reprobate  the 
comforts  and  decencies  of  life.  Real  elegance  is  in  simpli- 
city ;  and  good  taste  never  violates  sound  judgment.  Our 


SCENES   OF  DESTITUTION. 


239 


steamboats,  for  instance,  are  elegant,  extravagant,  foolishly 
so,  in  their  fittings.  The  British  are  mean,  inconvenient, 
and  generally  dirty.  Our  station-houses  are  ugly,  mis- 
shapen, unsuitable  things,  and  our  bridges  and  wharves  ten- 
penny  structures.  These  are  solid,  durable,  elegant.  There 
are  lessons  for  both  to  learn. 

All  that  part  of  the  town,  called  Newtown-Perry — from 
the  name  of  the  owner  of  the  land  on  which  the  new  town 
is  built — is  very  fine,  neat,  regular,  airy,  and  elegant ;  and 
our  astonishment  and  admiration  increased  as  we  went 
over  it.  But  the  day  did  not  close  without  proofs  of  desti- 
tution and  misery,  which  awakened  all  my  sadness,  and 
gave  full  conviction  that  we  were  still  in  Ireland ! 

We  visited  the  old  part  of  the  city,  and  all  along  the 
main  street  leading  through  the  "Irish  to  the  English  town," 
saw  such  sights  of  poverty  and  shameless  degradation  as 
wre  never  saw  before.  There  is  no  spot  in  our  cities  to 
compare  with  it.  The  Five  Points,  so  graphically  de- 
scribed by  Mr.  Dickens,  who  saw  every  thing  through  the 
most  English  eyes,  does  not  afford  the  basis  of  a  compari- 
son ;  for  that  is  filled  up  with  the  better  class  who  have 
emigrated  from  Saint  Giles,  Saint  Mary's  Gate,  and  the 
streets  we  are  now  describing.  The  more  wretched  could 
not  go. 

All  along  the  street,  centre  and  sides,  were  grouped 
masses  of  human  beings,  of  both  sexes  and  all  ages,  who 
exhibited  the  lowest  depths  of  poverty,  intemperance  and 
vice.  The  gin,  beer,  junk,  and  slop-shops  were  in  charac- 
ter with  all  the  rest,  in  the  style  of  Orange-street,  though 
on  a  much  larger  scale.  Smutty  childhood,  wrinkled  age, 
hobbling  decrepitude,  gaunt  distress,  bloated  drunkenness, 
shameless  vice,  barefaced  crime — all  the  odiousness  of  ig- 
norance, depravity  and  famine  were  mingled  in  a  confused 
mass,  the  most  loathsome  and  forbidding. 

Crossing  the  bridge  into  the  "  English  Town,"  the  hue 
became,  if  possible,  still  darker,  as  the  evidences  of  moral 
depravity  thickened  on  all  sides.    This  added  to  the  pic- 


240 


MULTITUDES  GENERATE  VICE. 


ture  colorings  of  disgrace  and  wretchedness  which  trans- 
cend all  attempts  at  description — most  appalling  and  re- 
pulsive exhibitions  of  vice,  in  which  soldiers  from  the  bar- 
racks acted  prominent  parts.  The  principal  business 
seemed  to  be  vending  old  clothes.  These,  in  every  con- 
ceivable variety,  from  the  laid-off  coat  of  the  nobleman,  and 
the  dress  of  his  "  lady,"  down  to  those  stripped  from  the 
corse  of  a  beggar,  or  picked  from  the  gutter,  were  displayed 
along  the  sides  of  the  street. 

Crossing  another  bridge,  we  passed  one  of  the  military 
stations,  when  still  stronger  marks  of  vice  and  infamy  were 
to  be  seen.  Under  the  best  regulations,  a  large  share  of  ini- 
quity clusters  about  such  large  establishments.  But  here 
it  seemed  to  revel  without  restraint.  From  this  place 
flows  the  blighting  influence  which  leaves  such  palpable 
traces  of  crime  and  moral  pollution  upon  both  men  and 
women,  young  in  years,  but,  it  is  feared,  already  old  in  vice 
and  deep  in  depravity.  Who  ever  searched  minutely,  the 
full  history  of  large  bodies  of  men,  closely  packed  in  bar- 
racks or  monastery,  without  finding  traces  of  depravity 
which  have  festered  into  the  rottenest  crimes ;  sometimes 
kept  secret  for  a  time,  but  afterward  divulged  ?  The  Re- 
formation corrected,  in  a  measure  the  abuses  of  one,  the 
prevalence  of  peace  will  remove  the  other. 

We  were  satisfied  to  return  to  our  inn,  at  an  early  hour, 
having  looked  upon  scenes  of  beauty  and  wretchedness,  de- 
pravity and  shame,  mingled  in  such  confusion  as  we  had 
never  supposed  possible.  The  events  of  yesterday  I  shall 
not  soon  forget.  They  form  a  chapter — nay  a  book  of 
many  chapters — in  the  history  of  my  experience,  never  to 
be  forgotten.  The  scenes  of  whole  years  have  been 
crowded  into  a  single  day,  and  more  phases  of  social  life  pre- 
sented, than  could  be  witnessed  at  home,  by  traveling  from 
one  end  of  our  country  to  the  other.  The  old  and  the  new, 
the  beautiful  and  the  strange,  from  the  davs  feudalism  first 
reared  these  castle  walls,  to  this  hour,  when  wealth,  sus- 
tained by  a  royal  retinue  of  lords  and  armies,  tramps  with 


A    MORNING  STROLL. 


241 


iron  hoof  upon  the  necks  and  virtue  of  this  unfortunate 
people,  are  all  confusedly  huddled  together ;  and  I  feel  my 
spirit  and  my  flesh  completely  exhausted.  May  the  good 
Lord  give  faith  and  patience  to  endure  one  night  of  peace 
and  quiet  sleep. 

A    DAY     AT  LIMERICK. 

May  23. — The  only  disturbance  which  troubled  us  during 
the  night  was  the  doleful  cry  of  the  watchmen,  who  passed 
our  window  every  hour,  drawling  out  the  time  of  the  night 
and  "all's  well,"  in  a  deep  guttural  tone,  as  if  they  had  been 
released  from  the  grave  after  a  thousand  }  ears'  confinement, 
and  expected  soon  to  return  to  it.  After  the  outbreak,  a 
few  nights  ago,  when  Messrs.  O'Brien,  Mitchel,  and  Meag- 
her were  driven  from  public  meeting,  and  having  seen 
multitudes  during  the  evening,  in  various  parts  of  the  city, 
engaged  in  warm  discussions  upon  political  questions  which 
now  so  much  agitate  this  country,  and  knowing  that  many 
apprehended  another  emute  of  the  citizens,  we  were  easily 
disturbed  ;  but  nothing  troubled  us  but  the  horrid  cries  of 
the  night-watch. 

We  rose  at  four — the  sun  having  preceded  us  by  half  an 
hour- — and  took  a  ramble  about  the  still  and  quiet  streets. 
Few  were  astir  at  that  hour.  Here  and  there,  a  solitary 
footman  passed  us,  and  occasionally  a  despondent  ass,  laden 
with  a  few  vegetables,  or  boxes  stowed  into  panniers  laid 
across  his  back,  and  driven  by  a  young  woman  with  bare 
feet,  dingy,  and  often  ragged  dress,  and  naked  head,  or  co- 
vered by  a  white  cambric  cap,  with  a  wide  flowing  ruffle 
about  the  face — appearing  alike  uncared  for,  and  fit  com- 
panions in  misfortune  and  doom  of  servitude  Their  tramp 
along  the  clean  and  solitary  streets  at  that  beautiful  hour, 
seemed  lonely  and  sad,  and  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
cheerfulness  and  grandeur  of  that  calm  and  sweet  morning. 

Soon  the  baker  with  his  baskets  of  bread,  the  servant  with 
her  pail  for  water,  the  newsman  with  his  bundle  of  papers. 

21 


242 


THE  MARKET. 


tripped  more  rapidly  along  the  streets.  By-and-by,  a  grog- 
gcry  was  opened,  and  then  a  grocery,  and,  by  six  o'clock, 
there  were  signs  of  returning  life  in  all  the  business  parts  of 
the  town. 

We  visited  the  market  places,  which  were  first  open.  The 
only  meat  we  saw  displayed  in  the  stalls  was  mutton,  much 
of  which  appeared  to  be  of  an  excellent  quality.  Butter,  in 
large  quantity,  and  of  the  very  nicest  kind,  was  all  along 
the  street,  done  up  in  neat  rolls  and  handsomely  stamped. 
There  was  also  fish  of  various  kinds,  piles  of  boiled  shrimps, 
early  vegetables,  mainly  cabbage  and  cauliflower,  bread, 
cheese,  and  articles  common  in  our  markets.  The  prices 
were  not  high — generally  lower  than  in  New  York.  Gro- 
ceries are  much  dearer,  especially  tea,  coffee,  and  sugar. 
Good  coffee  is  from  30  to  40  cents  a  pound,  and  most  duti- 
able articles  are  from  three  to  four  times  as  high  as  with 
us.  The  turf-sellers  attracted  our  notice.  Some  were 
standing  by  asses  loaded  with  the  article,  others  had  baskets 
which  they  had  brought  on  their  backs  many  miles,  and 
were  willing  to  deliver  in  any  part  of  the  city.  These 
were  the  most  deplorably  miserable  and  dejected  of  anVj 
except  the  beggars  which  met  us  at  every  step,  and  followed 
us  in  droves,  wherever  we  went,  even  into  the  hall  of  our 
hotel,  and  remained  about  the  door,  after  being  ordered  out 
by  our  host,  to  waylay  us  when  we  came  into  the  street 
again. 

Many  about  the  market  were  quite  respectable  in  their 
appearance.  I  noticed  several  persons,  well  formed,  tall, 
handsome,  and  genteel  in  their  manners.  I  was  surprised 
to  see  several  women  who  could  be  called  really  beautiful, 
even  dressed  as  they  were.  Every  body  knows  that  dress 
may  be  so  tastefully  selected  and  delicately  arranged  as  to 
add  much  to  nature's  charms,  and  help  set  off  beauty  in  its 
most  favorable  aspects.  But  among  these  rude  peasant  girls 
who  had  come  many  miles  to  market,  with  the  commonest 
products  they  had  themselves  reared,  there  were  specimens 
of  female  beauty,  I  had  not  expected  to  find  in  any  class  in 


PERSONAL  BEAUTY. 


243 


Ireland.  At  home  we  are  in  the  habit  of  speaking  of  the 
Irish  as  exceedingly  plain  and  often  ugly  in  their  appearance, 
and  many  of  them  are  ;  but  I  never  heard  of  beauty  being 
sought  for  among  them.  It  is  a  mistake,  and  I  am  happy 
in  the  disappointment ;  for  there  is  something  in  the  per- 
sonal appearance  of  the  inhabitants  of  any  country  which 
affects  one's  feelings,  and  adds  to  or  detracts  from  his  plea- 
sure while  sojourning  among  them. 

Ireland  has  been  slandered  for  the  ugliness  of  its  inhabit- 
ants. There  are  differences  in  different  parts  of  the  king- 
dom, and  ugliness  enough,  no  doubt  every  where ;  for  there 
are  distinct  races  who  maintain  much  of  their  primitive 
characteristics,  which  distinguishes  them  from  those  in 
other  parts  of  the  island.  Those  among  whom  we  have  been 
traveling,  especially  about  Kiliarney,  at  Kinsale,  Macroom, 
and  Tarbert  are  shorter  and  smaller,  and  not  so  pretty  in 
their  forms  and  features  as  they  are  here.  We  saw  many 
tall,  and  well  formed  figures,  and  handsome  countenances  in 
Cork  and  Tralee,  owing  no  doubt,  to  the  mingling  of  diffe- 
rent races  which  have  settled  at  different  times  in  those 
business  towns. 

The  same  cause  has  conspired,  unquestionably,  to  produce 
a  similar  effect  in  this  city  and  the  country  about  it ;  for,  if 
I  remember  rightly,  this  was  long  ago,  one  of  the  great  cen- 
tral spots  in  the  conflicts  of  civil  and  foreign  wars.  The 
Danes  and  Normans  came  here  and  established  themselves, 
far  back  in  the  history  of  the  nation ;  and  Cromwell  dis- 
banded his  army  in  this  neighborhood,  and  settled  his  offi- 
cers and  soldiers  upon  the  lands  from  which  he  had  driven 
the  original  inhabitants.  The  Scotch  also  circulated  freely 
among  this  people,  and  many  settled  here.  This  was  the 
seat  of  the  O'Brians,  the  former  kings  of  Munster.  Being 
close  upon  the  borders  of  the  other  provinces,  and  an  im- 
portant commercial  tow7n,  the  population  naturally  became 
greatly  mixed,  and  hence,  according  to  physiological  laws, 
the  improvement  in  the  physical  appearance  of  the  people 
is  to  be  accounted  for. 


244 


THE   ARTILLERY  BARRACKS. 


By  seven  all  the  shops  were  open,  and  the  streets  were 
full  of  bustle  and  business.  Every  thing  in  the  main  streets 
of  the  new  town  wore  the  appearance  of  thrift  and  pros- 
perity. The  stores  are  numerous,  large,  handsome,  and 
well  furnished,  betokening  an  extensive  and  profitable  busi- 
ness. The  streets  are  wide  straight,  neat,  and  airy,  and  in- 
tersected at  right  angles.  Those  nearest  the  river  are  oc- 
cupied by  large  buildings  used  as  stores  below,  and  dwell- 
ings above.  The  land  ascends  gently  from  the  river,  and 
in  the  upper  part  of  the  town,  especially  along  the  Crescent, 
the  dwellings  are  very  large  and  elegant,  the  streets  being 
ornamented  with  shade  trees,  and  the  yards  filled  with  vines, 
flowers,  and  shrubbery,  much  in  the  character  of  the  best 
streets  in  American  cities. 

W e  visited  this  morning,  one  of  the  barracks,  occupying 
a  large  fort  on  the  high  ground  in  the  eastern  part  of  the 
city.  We  bolted  in  unasked,  and  looked  at  the  comfortable 
quarters  of  the  soldiers.  English  statesmen  are  wise  in  one 
thing,  keeping  strong  the  right  arm  of  their  power.  The 
soldiers  are  well  fed,  and  well  paid,  and  have  an  easy 
time  of  it.  None  of  the  common  people  fare  half  so  well. 
They  are  a  sort  of  indigent  nobility,  furnished  with  red 
coats,  glazed  caps,  and  good  rations  at  the  public  charge, 
and  required  to  exercise  barely  enough  to  digest  their  food. 
And  the  ranks  of  an  army  are  well  suited  to  the  hereditary 
gradations  so  indispensible  in  the  working  of  British  insti- 
tutions. There  is  no  motive  for  a  soldier  to  desert,  unless 
in  a  foreign  land ;  it  would  be  folly  to  forsake  his  beef,  and 
bread,  and  whiskey,  which  come  to  him  with  perfect  regu- 
larity, and  at  no  cost,  to  seek  a  precarious  livelihood  on  a 
patch  of  ground  he  might  hire  at  an  enormous  rent,  but 
could  never  own.  His  instinct  makes  him  loyal,  and  natural 
rights  and  political  and  social  wrongs  do  not  trouble  him. 
Jt  is  food  and  raiment,  and  a  place  to  sleep,  that  concerns 
him  most,  and  so  he  becomes  mechanically  valorous,  when 
occasion  requires. 

Some  three  or  four  thousand  of  these  minions  of  power, 


IRISH  PATRIOTISM. 


245 


are  now  stored  in  the  four  barracks  in  this  city,  and  thirty 
thousand  more  in  different  parts  of  the  kingdom.  Fresh 
troops  are  constantly  arriving  from  England  and  Scotland. 
The  agitation  produced  by  O'Brien,  M.  P.  Mitchell,  and 
Meagher,  the  two  former  of  whom  are  said  to  have  used 
strongly  seditious  language  in  this  city,  a  few  evenings  ago, 
is  the  cause  of  all  this  stir  in  military  matters.  I  am  told 
the  officers  are  in  pursuit  of  these  men,  and  no  doubt  before 
this  they  are  in  "durance  vile." 

I  got  into  conversation  with  an  under  officer,  and  learned 
something  of  his  feelings  about  the  commotions  which  now 
agitate  the  country.  I  found  him  loyal,  in  every  particular, 
though  he  admitted  the  wrongs  of  government,  and  the 
miseries  of  his  countrymen.  I  asked  him  if  the  govern- 
ment was  willing  to  trust  him  to  fight  his  own  friends  in 
case  of  an  outbreak.  He  said  he  was  not  amongst  his 
friends;  he  came  from  the  north,  and  should  certainlv  obev 
orders.  He  further  told  me  that  companies  from  the  west 
and  south  had  been  generallv  sent  out  of  the  countrv,  to 
England,  Canada,  or  other  places,  while  their  places  had 
been  filled  from  England,  Scotland,  and  the  north.  He  did 
not  think  there  would  be  any  serious  outbreak,  but  the 
soldiers  were  fully  prepared  to  quell  any  rebellion  that  might 
be  undertaken.  I  expressed  to  him  no  opinion,  and  it  was 
evident  he  took  me  for  an  Englishman. 

Two  or  three  squads  were  going  through  a  course  of 
artillerv  drill.  Thev  were  tall,  noble  looking  fellows  ;  and 
as  they  strutted  through  the  evolutions  around  their  brass 
pieces,  pretending  to  put  in  cartridges  and  ram  them  down, 
prime,  elevate,  take  aim,  fire  off,  and  swob  out,  all  at  the 
direction  of  little  slim  lads,  in  cloth  caps,  who  swaggered 
about,  flourishing  rattan  canes,  like  Broadway  dandies,  a 
feeling  of  pity  and  disgust  was  awakened,  to  think  that  the 
best  energies  of  these  "noble"  voungmen  were  to  be  prosti- 
tuted  to  the  base  purpose  of  learning  how  to  kill  their  fellow- 
men  scientifically — by  rule  and  by  "  law  and  order,"  and 
subject  to  the  command  of  her  Royal  Majesty,  the  Head  of 

21* 


246 


UNCHRISTIAN  TREATMENT. 


the  Church  !  Shame  and  confusion  !  What  arrogant  folly ! 
What  bloody  madness  !  Oh  Heavens  !  Is  justice  lost  ?  Is 
mercy  dumb  ?  Then,  "  Rule  Brittania"  and  tramp  on 
with  thy  aristocratic  hoofs,  still  more  ruthlessly,  and  crush 
what  life  is  left  in  this  wretched  people  !  Drive  on  thy  cart 
loads  of  tax  and  tithe  gatherers,  and  arm  thy  constabulary 
to  protect  agents  of  absentees  in  distraining  for  rent  or 
evicting  tenants  from  desirable  lands,  turning  them  house- 
less and  pennyless  upon  the  world,  and  then  train  their  mili- 
tary to  shoot  them  down  if  they  dare  to  make  a  show  of 
resistance,  or  a  particle  of  self-respect  by  way  of  objection. 
They  have  no  remedy  at  law.  Physical  resistance  is  their 
only  resource.  And  such  a  demonstration  they  must  not 
make  ! 

Is  this  christian  ?  Is  there  aught  of  the  spirit  of  the  re- 
ligion professed  by  the  government,  in  all  this  method  of  op- 
pression. Should  not  the  strong  be  merciful,  the  wise  gene- 
rous, and  the  christian  forgiving !  And  yet  what  has  Eng- 
land done  to  elevate  and  improve  the  condition  of  the  com- 
mon people  of  Ireland.  Every  Englishman,  and  loyal  Irish- 
man, especially  if  a  landlord,  is  for  ever  harping  upon  the 
ignorance,  bigotry,  laziness,  filth,  and  wickedness  of  the 
Irish,  and,  heaven  knows,  not  without  a  cause,  for  there  is 
enough  of  all  these.  But  is  it  the  way  to  cure  an  evil,  to 
be  constantly  finding  fault,  while  nothing  is  done  to  remove 
the  cause — to  take  off  the  yoke  which  has  so  galled  their 
necks  for  ten  centuries  ?  Is  the  remedy  to  be  found  in  the 
infliction  of  greater  oppressions,  or  by  adding  insult  to  injury? 
It  seems  to  me  as  if  the  principles  of  humanity,  as  recom- 
mended in  the  gospels,  are  never  thought  of  in  connexion 
with  the  government  of  Ireland.  That  it  is  by  a  mere  dis- 
play of  pride  and  power,  that  respect  and  obedience  are 
looked  for — methods  which  the  veriest  heathen  tyrant  would 
have  adopted  in  the  government  of  a  conquered  province, 
which  he  wished  to  depopulate,  to  make  room  for  more  loyal 
subjects. 

The  ignorance  and  wickedness  of  this  countrv  does  not 


EVILS   OF  NEGLECT. 


247 


justify  the  treatment  it  receives.  One  wrong  does  not  jus- 
tify another  ;  and  until  England  learns  to  be  just  and  gene- 
rous towards  the  masses  of  her  citizens,  regarding  them  in 
the  light  of  common  justice  and  humanity,  instead  of  be- 
stowing all  her  care  and  favors  upon  her  nobility  and  gen- 
try, no  real  improvement  can  be  reasonably  expected.  If 
her  statesmen  would  act  the  part  of  guardians  and  protec- 
tors, and  devote  her  powers  to  educate  the  people,  by  giv- 
ing them  practical  knowledge  in  the  arts  of  civilization, 
and  then  afford  them  a  chance  to  do  for  themselves,  instead 
of  keeping  them  the  serfs  of  absentee  landlords,  to  be 
abused  and  cheated  to  the  last  inch  by  merciless  agents, 
and  trafficking  middle-men,  and  then  taxing  them  to  the 
last  farthing  to  support  lordly  priests,  whose  doctrines  they 
disbelieve,  and  armies  of  policemen  and  soldiers  to  help 
keep  them  in  the  traces,  they  might  look  with  confidence 
for  improvement,  for  the  peace  and  happiness  of  Ire- 
land. As  it  is,  the  darkness  thickens  in  her  skies,  corrup- 
tion festers  at  her  heart,  poverty  and  crime  mark  her  ca- 
reer, and  distraction  and  ruin  are  in  reserve  for  her  future. 
Xot  a  ray  of  hope  or  comfort  gleams  from  any  point  of 
heaven,  upon  the  masses  of  her  sons  and  daughters.  Op- 
pression, starvation,  or  emigration  are  inscribed  every 
where — on  every  hill  and  valley,  in  every  town,  village,  and 
hamlet.  Peace,  justice,  and  competence  are  no  where  to 
be  found. 

To  the  courageous,  of  small  means,  there  are  glimmer- 
ings of  light,  wafted  in  the  arrival  of  each  emigrant  ship 
from  the  distant  shores  of  a  foreign  land  ;  and  they  breathe 
more  freely,  and  their  pulses  beat  quicker,  a  smile  even  kin- 
dles upon  their  pale  lips,  when  the  thought  strikes  them  that 
there  is  a  chance  for  them  to  forsake  their  native  land,  the 
homes  and  graves  of  their  ancestors,  and  seek  an  asvlum 
anions  strangers.  But  to  the  timorous,  without  means, 
there  is  nothing  left  but  cold,  blank  despair,  rendered  more 
apparent  by  the  glistening  of  the  oppressor's  power,  which 
glimmers  about  the  bristling  bayonets  of  these  trained 


248 


A  WEDDING. 


bands  of  death  and  destruction,  sent  here  to  overawe  the 
masses,  and  protect  the  exclusive  privileges  of  the  favored 
few  t 

No  country  can  really  prosper,  whose  inhabitants  are  so 
treated  that  they  learn  to  hate  their  homes,  and  to  despise 
the  authorities.  Kings  and  noblemen  may  prate  about 
"divine  rights"  as  much  as  they  will,  but  unless  they  have 
the  hearts  of  the  people  on  their  side,  they  will  have  prac- 
tical illustrations  of  the  truth  and  meaning  of  the  words 
"  Vox  populi,  vox  Dei ;"  for,  sooner  or  later,  God,  whose  love 
is  impartial,  and  whose  justice  fails  not,  will  give  freedom 
and  peace  to  His  people. 

From  the  artillery  barracks,  we  wandered  through  the 
public  square,  and  seeing  many  people  gathering  about 
a  church  near  bv,  we  went  in.  A  woman  who  was  serv- 
ing  as  sexton,  informed  us  there  was  to  be  a  wedding,  and 
invited  us  to  walk  in.  We  did  so,  and  took  our  seats  in 
the  front  of  the  gallery,  but  as  it  was  some  time  before  the 
parties  arrived,  we  went  below,  and  looked  about  the 
building.  The  pews  are  furnished  with  locks,  and  many 
of  them  were  fastened  to  keep  out  the  unbelievers.  A 
tombstone  is  inserted  in  the  wall,  on  the  left  of  the  pulpit, 
at  the  height  of  ten  or  twelve  feet  from  the  floor.  Its  let- 
tering indicates  that  it  is  in  memory  of  a  Mrs.  Russel,  wife 
of  one  of  the  richest  men  in  Limerick,  we  learned  after- 
wards, made  so  by  the  distilling  of  whiskey,  the  monopoly 
of  grain,  and  the  fattening  of  hogs  !  The  building  itself  is 
neat  and  respectable,  of  recent  erection  and  in  modern 
style. 

A  large  number  of  people  were  gathered  about  the  door, 
mere  idlers,  who  came  from  curiosity,  whom  the  lady  sex- 
ton refused  to  admit.  But  one  or  two  hundred,  who  were  very 
respectably  dressed,  came  in  and  seated  themselves  about 
the  church.  Their  appearance  fully  justified  my  favorable 
opinion  of  the  personal  beauty  of  the  inhabitants,  espe- 
cially the  women,  of  Limerick.  There  was  scarcely  an 
ordinarv  looking  person  amongst  them.    Many  were  really 


A   CATHOLIC  CHATEL. 


249 


handsome.  Even  among  those  standing  about  the  door- 
way, there  were  many  boys  and  girls,  plainly  dressed,  and 
some  ragged,  whose  countenances  were  actually  beautiful. 

DC1        *  « 

They  needed  only  a  little  soap  and  water  to  bring  out  the 
lustre  of  rosy  cheeks,  and  delicate  and  well-formed  fea- 
tures. 

Soon  carriages  began  to  arrive,  with  lackeys  in  livery, 
and  the  "  parties  of  the  first  part,"  as  the  lawyer  would 
say,  appeared  and  retired  to  a  small,  open  room  on 
the  left  of  the  entrance.  Soon  after,  the  "parties  of  the 
second  part"  were  ushered  in,  and  a  formal  presentation 
made,  when  the  whole  retinue  entered  the  body  of  the 
church,  and  arranged  themselves  before  the  altar.  The 
priest,  in  full  canonicals,  with  book  in  hand,  proceeded  to 
read  the  marriage  service,  and,  with  all  due  formality,  pro- 
claimed the  twain  to  be  one,  till  death  them  should  part. 
Then  the  salutations  and  greetings  followed,  which  over, 
the  happy  pair  were  conducted  to  their  carriage  and  de- 
parted, but  not  as  they  came.  The  beggars  next  claimed 
our  notice,  for  they  flocked  about  in  abundance ;  but  I  saw 
nothing  given  them,  except  sour  looks  and  harsh  words. 
We  were  told  this  was  a  wedding  in  high  life,  the  friends  of 
the  parties  being  among  the  most  distinguished  people  of 
the  town;  and  that,  therefore,  the  poor  beggars  had  hoped 
that  a  few  pennies  would  have  been  scattered  amongst 
them.  They  seemed  to  bear  their  disappointment  bravely, 
as  if  used  to  it.  for  where  so  many  are,  who  can  give  to  all  ? 
A  man  must  have  a  long  purse  or  a  hard  heart  to  live  long 
in  Ireland. 

On  our  way  from  the  wedding,  we  passed  a  Catholic 
chapel,  which  was  open.  We  entered.  It  was  a  large 
building,  rather  dingy,  inside  and  out,  Two  women  and 
an  oid  man  were  kneeling  on  the  cold  stone  floor,  not  far 
from  the  door,  with  their  faces  towards  the  high  altar,  in 
the  farther  end.  Their  pale,  wan  faces,  wrinkled  skin,  and 
tattered  garments,  told  a  tale  of  misery,  from  which  they 
were  seeking  relief  in  the  offices  of  penance  they  were 


250 


FA  IT  II   AND  WORKS. 


now  undergoing.  The  women  were  not  old,  but  they 
looked  the  pictures  of  wretchedness.  Each  was  muttering 
prayers,  and  counting  a  string  of  old,  worn  beads,  which 
hung  about  the  neck,  with  the  most  apparent  fervor  and 
sincerity.  They  did  not  seem  to  notice  us  as  we  entered 
and  passed  them.  After  looking  at  a  few  pictures  and  sta- 
tues about  the  church,  we  returned,  to  go  out.  The 
women  broke  short  off,  and  came  to  us,  holding  out  their 
thin  hands.  One  said,  "  Plase,  sir,  give  me  a  ha  -penny,  an' 
may  the  Lord  bliss  ye,  and  give  ye  lang  life."  The  other 
said,  "Give  me  a  ha'-penny,  an'  I'll  pray  that  the  great 
God'll  bliss  ye,  yer  honors,  an'  kape  yer  shouls  from  pur- 
gatory, an'  carry  ye  safe,  an'  kape  ye,  an'  ye'll  give  me  a 
ha'-penny."  They  went  from  one  to  the  other,  bartering 
their  prayers  for  our  ha'-pennies,  and  promising  to  inter- 
cede with  the  blessed  Virgin  in  our  behalf.  The  old  man 
did  not  rise  from  his  knees,  but  reached  out  his  old  hat 
with  one  hand,  while  he  held  the  beads  in  the  other.  A 
more  perfect  figure  of  patient  destitution  1  never  saw,  not 
even  the  poor  creatures  under  the  boards  at  Tralee. 

As  we  left  that  church,  I  queried  whether  the  doctrines 
and  precepts  of  Christianity  are  well  understood  ;  whether 
the  errors  and  mistakes  of  past  ages  have  not  left  shadows 
upon  it,  which  dim  its  brightest  beauties,  and  keep  the 
world  from  enjoying  its  blessings.  Sincerity,  humility, 
faith  in  doctrines,  submission  to  forms  as  a  means,  are  valu- 
able, it  may  be  essential,  qualities,  but  are  there  not  active 
virtues  which  are  equally  so  ?  Should  not  the  people  be 
taught  to  watch  as  well  as  pray  ;  to  work  as  well  as  believe  ; 
to  do  as  well  as  know  ?  And  does  not  he  who  labors  with 
his  hands  to  support  himself  comfortably,  and  to  give  to 
the  needy,  as  truly  serve  God  as  he  who  waits  at  the 
altar?  It  seems  to  me  people,  many  of  them,  talk  strangely 
and  unadvisedly  about  this  good  and  beautiful  world,  in 
which  it  has  pleased  our  heavenly  Father  to  place  us  for  a 
time;  for  ever  decrying  it,  and  speaking  of  its  blessings  and 
comforts  with  ingratitude  and  disrepect,  and  holding  out 


THEORY   AND  PRACTICE. 


251 


the  opinion,  that  to  love  God  we  must  hate  the  world,  and 
the  glorious  works  he  has  displayed  in  it ;  that  religion  re- 
quires pain  and  sadness,  and  the  denial  of  all  real  temporal 
comfort  to  those  who  would  become  eminent  in  piety,  and 
have  a  sure  hope  of  the  life  to  come  ;  that  a  perpetual  war- 
fare is  to  be  kept  up  with  one's  self,  refusing  all  the  sources 
of  present  and  prospective  happiness,  and  laboring  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  worst  possible  condition  to  which  hu- 
manitv  can  be  reduced. 

The  practical  of  these  doctrines  is  found  in  the  degraded 
condition  of  mendicant,  friars,  and  severe  devotees  to  all 
religious  infatuations,  who  submit  cheerfully  to  the  most 
painful  and  degrading  penances  which  a  haughty,  ambi- 
tious, and  unfeeling  priesthood  are  pleased  to  inflict.  The 
evil  is  not  so  much  in  the  fact  that  these  views  have  not 
been  well  carried  out,  for  then  they  would  have  corrected 
themselves ;  but  in  that  they  are  yet  preached,  even  by 
pleasure-seeking  bishops,  and  ease-taking  prelates,  whose 
sporting  habits,  fat  "  livings,"  elegant  mansions,  good  din- 
ners, and  fine  wines,  present  a  strange  illustration  to  the 
theories  they  advocate,  and  thus  bring  religion  into  dis- 
repute. 

Could  the  practical  doctrines  and  precepts  of  Christianity 
be  brought  before  the  people,  and  their  perfect  and  beauti- 
ful adaptedness  to  all  the  affairs  and  conditions  of  men  be 
shown,  a  most  favorable  result  might  be  expected.  Could 
this  Irish  people,  now  so  miserable  and  degraded,  or  so  ex- 
alted above  the  affections,  duties,  and  responsibilities  which 
belong  to  a  true  Christian,  be  made  to  understand  and  feel 
the  spirit  and  power  of  Christian  truth,  which  owns  one 
God  and  Father,  who  is  over  all,  and  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
who  gave  himself  a  ransom  for  all,  and  requires  all  men, 
every  where,  to  repent,  to  lead  quiet  and  peaceable  lives, 
to  be  not  idle,  busy-bodies,  but  to  be  industrious,  frugal, 
tender-hearted,  merciful,  just,  forgiving,  forbearing ;  to 
avoid  oppression,  injustice,  and  cruelty  ;  striving  to  make 
this  earth  a  paradise  of  peace  and  plenty,  remembering  that 


252 


PRACTICAL   DOCTRINES  NEEDED. 


Christ  came  to  establish  His  kingdom  "in  the  earth," 
amongst  men";  that,  with  Him  the  distinctions  of  nation, 
race,  birth,  and  position  are  nothing;  that  each  and  all  are 
held  directly  and  personally  to  account  before  God  for  eve- 
ry act,  and  word,  and  thought ;  that  the  poor,  oppressed, 
and  outcast  have  a  friend  and  defender  in  Him,  whose 
cause  He  will  plead,  and  whose  wrongs  He  will  avenge ; 
that  He  abhors  the  forms  and  fashions  of  religion  which 
disguise  the  truth,  corrupt  the  heart,  and  deceive  the 
world  ;  that  he  requires  righteousness  in  the  "  inward 
parts/'  purity  of  soul,  and  a  perfect  life ; — could  these 
things  be  understood  and  felt,  I  venture  to  prophecy  that 
these  poor  devotees  would  not  be  here,  on  this  pleasant 
day,  counting  over  their  beads  and  muttering  the  Ave  Ma- 
rias for  the  ten  thousandth  time ;  nor  those  train-bands 
studying  the  science  and  art  of  human  butchery — actual 
murder  ; — nor  those  whole  villages  forsaken  by  the  evicted 
tenants  of  some  cruel  landlord,  who  has  compelled  them  to 
live  in  caves  dug  from  damp  turf  beds,  and  beg,  or  starve 
to  death.  We  should  see  right  respected,  industry  en- 
couraged, innocence  protected,  and  prosperity  and  happi- 
ness prevailing  in  all  parts  of  the  kingdom.  The  teachers 
of  religion  are  under  a  fearful  responsibility  !  And  who 
shall  escape  ?  May  the  Lord  give  grace  and  mercy.* 
I  should  not  fail  to  record  one  fact  which  had  some  sig- 

*  I  do  not  mean  by  what  I  have  said,  to  disparage  any  form  of  doctrine, 
or  mode  of  worship.  Such  is  not  my  object,  and  this  is  not  the  place.  But 
I  could  not  forbear  the  utterance  of  these  thoughts,  which  have  borne  heavily 
upon  my  mind,  since  I  was  in  the  country.  I  would  by  no  means  dis- 
courage those  poor,  comfortless,  unfortunate  beings  from  coming  to  the  only 
sure  fountain  of  help  and  hope — the  religion  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  But 
I  wanted  to  suggest  that  the  mere  forms  and  externals  of  religious  worship 
are  not  enough  :  that  the  people  must  be  taught  how  to  live  here,  as  well  as 
how  to  prepare  to  live  hereafter.  I  am  reminded  of  rather  a  witty  remark, 
of  one  of  my  own  countrymen,  who  was  once  a  slave,  but  is  now  distin- 
guished for  his  talents  as  a  public  advocate  of  abolitionism.  Said  he, "  We  are 
told  we  must  pray  to  God,  and  he  will  give  us  liberty.  But  I  can  tell  you 
what,  my  friends,  I  might  have  prayed  with  my  mouth  till  doom's  day ;  but 
if  I  had  not  prayed  with  my  heels,  I  should  still  have  been  in  slavery."  This 
explains  my  meaning. 


SPITTERS.  258 

*■ 

nificance,  the  more  so  to  us  in  as  much  as  it  afforded  an  op- 
portunity to  hurl  back  a  missile  sent  at  us  by  British  tour- 
ists which  might  as  well  have  been  kept  at  home  for  domes- 
tic use.  A  notice  was  posted  in  different  parts  of  the 
church,  "  Please  avoid  spitting  on  the  floor."  I  never 
saw  such  a  notice  at  home,  though  I  confess  there  is  often 
need  of  it,  not  only  in  churches  but  every  where  else.  But 
henceforth  we  shall  have  companions  to  share  with  us  the 
disgrace  of  being  a  ':  nation  of  spitters."  It  is  a  miserable, 
filthy  practice  to  chew  or  smoke  tobacco;  but  if  chewers 
and  smokers  would  keep  their  filth  to  themselves,  and  not 
invade  the  rights  and  comfort  of  others,  with  their  habits, 
none  would  ever  complain.  I  do  not  therefore  mention  this 
notice  by  way  of  excuse  for  my  own  countrymen,  or  as  an 
apology  for  the  nasty  practice  so  justly  complained  of,  but 
to  remind  our  trans-atlantic  brethren  of  their  own  sins,  and 
the  propriety  of  having  a  care  for  the  "  beam"  as  well  as 
the  "  mote." 

Our  next  point  was  to  St.  Mary's  church,  formerly  the 
Catholic  cathedral,  but  now  the  high  church  of  the  Establish- 
ment, gained  to  the  service  of  God,  and  the  glorious  reforma- 
tion, vi  et  armis,  like  innumerable  other  churches  throughout 
the  realm.  We  do  not  obtain  churches  in  that  way  at  home. 
I  remember  hearing  an  Englishman  express  his  astonishment 
at  the  sale  of  churches  in  our  country,  from  one  sect  to 
another,  as  though  it  was  a  very  strange  and  sacrilegious 
procedure.  He  doubtless  thought  it  better  to  gain  them  by 
conquest.  It  has  been  so  here.  The  decrees  of  courts,  en- 
forced by  military  power,  has  helped  to  rob  the  Catholics  of 
all  their  ancient  temples,  and  that  too  when  the  great  masses 
of  the  people  adhere  to  their  original  doctrine.  As  a  re- 
publican I  call  this  robbery.  The  majority  should  rule 
when  rights  are  equal.  The  change  of  one's  opinion  should 
not  jeopardize  his  liberty  or  his  property.  But  England  has 
yet  to  take  some  lessons  in  the  doctrines  of  equal  justice, 
and  religious  toleration.  She  has  made  great  improvement 
of  late,  but  there  still  is  room  for  more. 

22 


254  ST.   MARY  S  CHURCH. 

It  is  difficult  to  make  these  people  understand  the  work- 
ings of  our  free  and  voluntary  church  system.  They  will 
not  believe  us  when  we  tell  them  it  is  a  very  common  thing 
in  various  parts  of  our  country,  for  two  or  three  sects  to 
unite  and  build  a  church,  own  it  and  occupy  it  in  common, 
the  ministers  of  each  sect  taking  part  in  the  service  of 
dedication.  But  really  it  seems  to  me  there  is  quite  as 
much  of  the  spirit  of  our  holy  religion  exhibited  by  such  a 
procedure,  as  there  is  in  the  exclusiveness  and  robberies 
which  have  marked  the  past  history  of  both  Catholics  and 
Episcopalians,  or  the  government  churches  in  Scotland, 
Germany,  or  any  where  else.  One  is  a  free  and  voluntary 
act  in  honor  and  support  of  religion ;  the  other  a  forced 
contribution  to  answer  the  demands  of  intriguing  religio- 
politicians.  Give  us  the  free,  the  liberal,  the  tolerant,  and 
we  will  trust  the  true  and  right. 

St.  Mary's  Church,  to  which  we  obtained  admittance,  on 
the  payment  of  2s.,  is  a  venerable,  and  majestic  pile,  erected 
in  the  11th  century.  It  is  built  somewhat  in  the  Gothic 
style,  though  some  of  the  arches  are  Norman.  It  is  in  the 
form  of  a  cross.  The  choir  and  transept  only  are  used 
for  service.  Stalls  are  erected  on  both  sides  of  the  choir, 
and  ornamented  with  fantastic  carvings.  The  altar  itself, 
is  a  tasteful  structure,  viewed  as  a  work  of  art.  Numerous 
monuments  to  the  honored  dead,  are  arranged  about  the  in- 
terior. Among  them  I  noticed  one  of  Bishop  Jebb,  which 
represents  the  venerable  prelate  much  larger  than  life,  sit- 
ting in  an  easy  posture,  attired  in  his  robes  of  office,  with  a 
book  open  resting  on  his  knees.  The  statue  is  in  fine 
white  marble,  and  richly  finished.  Near  it,  in  a  recess  in 
the  wall,  is  the  tomb  and  sculptured  monument  of  the 
O'Brien's,  kings  of  Munster.  It  is  an  elaborate  work,  bear- 
ing some  inscriptions  in  Irish,  and  surmounted  with  the 
harp,  shamrock,  and  the  Arms  of  Munster. 

The  seats  in  this  vast  building  will  not  accommodate 
more  than  two  or  three  hundred  sitters.  There  are  rows 
of  stalls  on  each  side  of  the  choir,  for  the  magrates,  eccle- 


REFLECTION'S 


IN   THE  CATHEDRAL. 


•255 


siastical,  civil,  and  military,  facing  each  other.  Before  them 
are  seats  and  desks,  slightly  elevated,  for  the  readers,  singers* 
and  other  officers.  Then  in  the  area  between,  directly  in 
front  of  the  altar,  loose  benches  are  arranged,  as  also  in  the 
transept,  for  the  "common  people,'"  worshippers  of  the  lower 
order.  About  the  galleries  are  arranged  pews,  for  the  use  of 
the  families  of  the  nobility.  The  whole  plan  and  arrange- 
ment of  the  building  is  indicative  of  the  various  grades  re- 
cognized among  the  men  of  this  world.  It  is  not  copied 
after  the  "  pattern  set  in  the  heavens."  And  hence  the 
thought  stole  into  my  mind,  that  worldly  pride  has  a  little 
too  much  to  do  in  the  church  of  God.  I  can  not  say  it  was 
well  founded,  but  I  confess  these  stalls  reminded  me  of  "  Mo- 
ses' Seat"  and  one  or  two  parables  of  the  Master.  It  might 
have  been  wrong,  but  I  could  not  help  it.  If  it  was  wrong, 
I  have  confessed,  and  hope  to  be  forgiven 

The  well-worn  pavement,  the  gray  crevices  of  the  im- 
mense arches,  the  stained  windows,  and  lofty  columns,  all 
attested  the  antiquity  of  this  edifice  ;  and  I  felt  strangely 
as  I  gazed  upon  it.  I  stood  where  kings,  princes,  and  noble- 
men, rich  and  poor,  worshipped  eight  hundred  years  ago. 
Here  moulder  the  bones  of  monarchs  long  dead,  some  slain 
in  battle.  Here  have  resounded  the  acclamations  of  praise 
and  thankfulness  for  friends  returned  victorious,  and  here 
have  wept  the  hearts  of  the  vanquished !  Strange  and  in- 
definable thoughts  came  through  my  mind,  as  I  lingered 
about  that  old  cathedral,  and  caught  glimpses  of  the  dark 
centuries  that  are  past,  and  some  of  the  stirring  events 
here  chronicled.  Sad  thoughts  they  were,  for,  in  the  so- 
lemn stillness  and  pompous  grandeur  here  displayed.  I 
could  not  forget  the  living  world  without.  The  tears  and 
sighs  of  beggared  millions,  the  clanking  chains  of  oppres- 
sion, galling  the  very  hearts  of  a  crushed  people,  and  dri- 
ving them  to  madness,  or  to  foreign  lands,  still  runs:  in  mv 
soul,  and  I  could  not  feel  at  peace — I  could  not  admire  the 
architectural  splendor  as  I  would  under  other  circum- 
stances.   I  left  the  interior  without  regret. 


256 


bishop's  court. 


Near  the  main  entrance  of  the  nave,  on  the  left,  is  the 
Bishop's  court,  arranged  very  much  in  the  style  of  a  com- 
mon court-room  in  our  country,  with  a  bench,  witness- 
stand,  and  all  the  appurtenances  for  a  regular  trial  at  law. 
What  the  precise  legal  jurisdiction  of  the  bishop  is,  how 
far  he  is  restricted  to  spiritual  matters,  and  what  authority 
he  has  over  secular  sins,  I  am  not  able  to  say,  definitely, 
having  never  familiarized  myself  with  any  other  svstem 
of  jurisprudence  than  may  be  found  in  the  Old  Book. 
That,  especially  the  New  Testament,  has  little  to  say  on 
subjects  of  this  kind,  except  that  we  should  "judge  not, 
lest  we  be  judged,"  nor  "  entangle  ourselves  in  the  affairs 
of  this  world."  The  floor  and  benches  were  well  worn, 
which  led  me  to  infer  a  large  amount  of  business,  of  some 
sort,  was  done  at  this  court. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  entrance  is  a  room  enclosed 
by  an  iron  railing,  in  which  is  the  tomb  of  the  young  Lord 
Glentworth.  An  elegant  monument  has  been  recently 
erected,  which  represents  the  young  nobleman,  as  large  as 
life,  in  full  dress,  lying  upon  a  couch,  with  a  pillow  beneath 
his  head,  and  the  whole  elevated  about  four  feet  above  the 
floor.  A  linen  cloth  was  spread  over  it,  which  the  sexton 
removed,  at  our  request.  It  is  a  fine  specimen  of  art,  and, 
what  is  more,  is  said  to  be  in  honor  of  a  very  worthy  man. 
There  are  several  other  monuments  in  the  same  enclosure, 
and  others  inserted  in  the  walls  and  floor  of  that  part  of 
the  building.  Some  of  the  lettering  is  in  old  Irish  charac- 
ters, but  those  in  the  floor  are  nearly  effaced,  having  been 
trod  upon  for  centuries. 

From  this  part  we  ascended  to  the  top  of  one  of  the  lofty 
towers,  which  commands  a  beautiful  prospect  of  the  whole 
city,  and  a  wide  extent  of  the  surrounding  country.  North, 
the  eye  wanders  to  the  hills  about  lake  Derg.  East  and  south, 
over  a  vast  undulating  plain,  bounded  by  the  hills  in  Tippe- 
rary,  and  those  which  bound  the  valley  of  the  Lower  Shan- 
non, and  west,  down  the  broad  estuaries  of  that  river,  to 
the  range  of  rugged  hills  which  skirt  the  shores  of  the 


EXTENSIVE   AND   BEAUTIFUL  PROSPECT. 


257 


sea.  The  scene  is  vast,  varied,  and  beautiful.  From  lake 
Derg,  the  basin  of  which  is  distinctly  seen,  the  line  of  the 
Shannon  is  traced,  as  it  meanders  through  a  lovely  valley, 
with  here  and  there  a  village,  hamlet,  elegant  mansion,  or 
dingy  parapet  of  a  forsaken  castle,  studding  its  green  banks. 
Just  above,  it  divides  into  two  branches,  and  sweeps  around 
the  island,  on  which  stands  the  English  or  old  town,  which 
includes  the  castle,  the  church,  in  the  tower  of  which  we 
are  now  seated,  a  convent,  and,  perhaps,  a  third  of  the 
city.  Immediately  below  the  town,  the  river  widens  and 
bends  more  westward,  towards  the  sea.  The  site  of  the 
city  is  remarkably  fine,  at  the  head  of  tide- water,  and  navi- 
gation, except  by  canal  and  steamboats,  which  ascend  the 
Upper  Shannon  from  lake  Derg,  by  the  help  of  a  few  locks, 
as  far  as  Shannon  harbor  and  Athlone.  The  banks  are 
elevated,  so  as  to  give  a  healthy  and  pretty  appearance  to 
the  city.  Shipping,  strung  along  the  elegant  stone  quays, 
the  basin  into  which  smaller  vessels  and  canal  boats 
are  locked,  lying  between  the  English  and  the  New  town, 
the  magnificent  bridges  spanning  the  main  river  below  the 
junction,  and  one  leading  from  King  John's  castle  in  the 
English  town,  close  to  which  we  now  are,  to  Thomond- 
gate,  on  the  Clare  side,  and  two  or  three  which  cross  the 
Abbey  branch,  which  divides  the  English  from  the  Irish 
town ;  these,  and  the  public  buildings  are  all  distinctly 
seen,  embosomed  in  a  rich  and  beautifully  changing  coun- 
try, and  present  a  scene  of  varied  beauty  rarely  to  be  met. 

I  do  not  wonder  that  Irishmen  boast  so  much  of  their 
Emerald  Isle.  It  is,  without  dispute,  so  far  as  I  have  seen, 
endowed  by  nature  with  a  profusion  of  beauties,  and  all 
the  sources  of  abundance,  comfort,  and  wealth,  which  the 
heart  of  man  can  desire.  Strange  that  such  a  charming 
spot  of  earth  should  be  so  disfigured  and  despoiled  by  the 
wickedness  of  man !  that  oppression,  misery,  and  degrada- 
tion should  find  such  a  home  to  revel  in !  But  alas,  weeds 
grow  best  in  the  richest  soil ;  and  the  mildew  blights  most 
the  fairest  flowers!    Such  are  the  antagonisms  of  the 

22* 


258 


THE   ENGLISH  TOWN. 


world,  which,  here,  have  been  struggling  with  the  mightiest 
forces  for  many  centuries,  till  the  wrong  has  well  nigh  tri- 
umphed, and  left  the  true  and  good  to  wither  into  a  misera- 
ble and  disgraceful  death. 

Near  the  cathedral  is  the  old  castle,  or  citadel,  still  occu- 
pied as  an  infantry  barracks.  It  stands  upon  the  most  ele- 
vated point  of  the  island,  and  commands  the  old  city. 
Not  far  off  is  the  "  Bishop's  Palace,"  and  north  of  it,  front- 
ed by  a  pretty  lawn,  is  a  convent,  connected  with  which 
there  is  a  public  school.  Having  a  desire  to  see  how  pub- 
lic education  is  conducted  in  this  country,  we  applied  at  the 
entrance  door  for  admission,  but  were  referred  to  the  Lady 
Superior.  We  rang  at  the  gate,  and  a  servant  came  across 
the  lawn  from  the  nunnery,  to  know  our  business.  We 
sent  word  that  two  gentlemen  from  America  were  desirous 
of  visiting  the  school  under  her  charge.  After  some  delay 
an  answer  was  returned,  that  we  might  do  so  in  half  an 
hour.  We  spent  thi-s  time  in  looking  about  the  streets  and 
lanes  of  that  part  of  the  city. 

This  was  the  original  town  of  Limerick.  It  occupies 
the  south  end  of  what  is  now  called  King's  Island,  an  ele- 
vated plat,  which  descends  gently,  in  all  directions,  to 
the  river.  It  bears  the  marks  of  high  antiquity,  its 
history  going  back  to  the  fifth  century.  It  was,  at  one 
time,  in  the  possession  of  the  Danes,  and  the  architecture 
of  this  portion  affords  proof  of  the  fact,  for  the  Danish  or 
Flemish  style  of  building  is  often  to  be  seen.  After  the  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Danes,  it  became  the  royal  residence  of  the 
Kings  of  Munster.  The  famous  Brian  Boroihme  assembled 
his  army  here,  with  which  he  subdued  Leinster,  and  con- 
quered Dublin,  in  999.  He  lived  here  in  great  splendor, 
till  1014,  when  he  led  the  combined  armies  of  the  several 
Irish  kingdoms  against  the  Danes,  and  won  the  great  vic- 
tory of  Clontarf,  which,  however,  cost  him  his  life.  In  the 
12th  century,  the  English  invaded  Leinster  at  the  request  of 
Dermod  Mac  Murrough,  who  had  refused  submission  to  Ro- 
deric  O'Conner,  the  King  of  Ireland,  and,  in  the  true  policy  of 


CITY  CHANGES. 


259 


that  nation,  demanded,  as  a  recompense,  the  submission  of 
the  entire  country  to  their  authority.  When  has  England 
listened  to  a  call  for  aid  without  making  booty  of  their 
bounty  ?  Having  got  possession  of  the  East,  the  English 
forces,  under  Strongbow,  Earl  of  Clare,  caused  the  people 
to  submit  to  English  laws.  But  Limerick  and  the  West 
held  out  till  the  commencement  of  the  13th  century,  when 
King  John  succeeded  in  subjecting  it  to  his  authority. 
Many  Englishmen  were  imported,  who  took  possession  of 
this  part  of  the  town,  and  compelled  the  native  inhabi- 
tants to  settle  on  the  other  side  of  the  narrow  stream. 
Hence  the  names  English-town  and  Irish-town.  King 
John  built  a  fort  or  castle  which  still  stands  at  the  end 
of  the  Thomond  bridge,  formerly  the  only  entrance  to  the 
town.    Some  of  the  old  walls  are  also  to  be  seen. 

After  the  commencement  of  the  New  town,  a  little  over 
half  a  century  ago,  with  wide  streets  and  handsome  build- 
ings, this  part  has  been  forsaken  by  all  the  wealthy  inhabit- 
ants, who  have  preferred  the  elegance  and  comfort  of  New- 
town Perrv,  to  these  narrow  streets  and  crowded  lanes. 
Little  is  to  be  seen  here  now  but  old  rookeries,  decaying  from 
neglect,  and  a  most  squalid  and  immoral  class  of  inhabit- 
ants. Some  of  the  old  public  buildings  remain  in  a  dilapi- 
dated condition,  but  close  beside  them  is  collected  filth, 
misery  and  vice  which  baffles  description,  showing  how 
soon  the  fairest  spots  of  earth  may  wither  and  decav,  when 
touched  by  the  polluted  hand  of  sin,  or  forsaken  by  a  moral, 
enterprising,  and  industrious  population.  The  Irish  town 
has  suffered  less  by  the  change,  for  the  New  is  joined  imme- 
diately to  it,  and  therefore  it  derives  some  advantage  from 
the  general  improvement. 

The  time  appointed  having  arrived,  we  returned  to  the 
"  National  School,"  and,  after  a  long  delay,  were  invited  to 
"  walk  up."  On  entering  the  ante-room,  we  were  presented 
to  the  Prioress,  who  stood,  like  a  statue  of  marble,  in  prince- 
ly dignity,  attired  in  the  robes  of  her  order — a  white  flannel 
dress,  tinged  slightly  yellow,  fitted  close  about  her  neck  and 


200 


PRIORESS   OF   A  CONVENT. 


waist,  and  flowing  in  liberal  folds  to  the  ground.  A  chain, 
with  a  cross  suspended,  was  hung  about  her  neck,  and  a 
white  cap  or  turban,  set  gracefully  on  her  head.  She  be- 
longed to  the  order  of  "  The  Sisters  of  Mercy."  She  was  a 
tall,  well  proportioned,  masculine  figure.  Her  height  must 
have  exceeded  six  feet.  Her  features  were  smooth,  and 
well  formed,  though  pale  and  sad.  She  might  be  forty 
years  old.  She  received  us  with  a  slow,  graceful  courtesy, 
and  a  very  slight  inclination  of  the  body,  and  then  resumed 
her  former  attitude  of  solemn,  conscious  dignity,  in  appear- 
ance, cold  as  the  frigid  marble. 

I  confess  J  felt  abashed,  awe-struck,  for  I  had  not  expected 
such  courtly  grace,  and  this  was  the  first  time  I  ever  came 
in  contact  with  any  of  its  pretensions.  I  had  stood  before 
the  great  men  of  our  nation,  presidents,  governors,  judges, 
bishops,  priests,  and  school  ma'am's,  and  all  sorts  of  repub- 
lican magnates,  but  I  never  before  stood  before  the  superior 
of  an  Irish  nunnery.  Summing  up  what  dignity  I  could 
command,  I  presented  my  right  hand  with  Yankee  honesty, 
as  a  token  of  fraternal  regard.  She  accepted  it,  but  with 
apparent  reluctance,  and  did  not  return  very  warmly  my 
friendly  and  cordial  greeting.  Perhaps  she  thought  me  rude, 
and  my  friend  afterwards  read  me  a  homily  on  convent 
manners,  which  I  had  never  heard  of  before.  I  was  there 
an  American,  and  I  would  not  disgrace  my  nation  by  apeing 
foreign  customs.  I  felt,  as  I  acted,  a  true  respect  for  my 
Irish  brethren  and  sisters.  This  was  one,  at  the  head  of  a 
whole  sisterhood  of  my  father's  daughters,  and  why  should 
I  not  be  sincere,  frank,  and  cordial  at  meeting  with  her. 

Never  mind,  she  did  not  resent  my  rudeness,  but  received 
us  as  friends.  Her  countenance  did  not  brighten  with  a 
single  glimmer  of  warm  feeling,  though  she  spoke  the  words 
of  sincerity  and  gratitude.  So  completely  withering  has 
been  the  mental  discipline  over  the  exterior  faculties,  which 
link  her  to  mortal  and  social  life.  She  maintained  an  icy 
coldness  during  our  whole  stay ;  except  once,  at  one  re- 
mark I  made,  I  saw  a  faint  smile  play  about  her  lips,  like  a 


A    CLASS   OP  SCHOLARS. 


261 


moonbeam  on  the  haze  that  surrounds  an  iceberg  floating 
at  sea. 

I  introduced  my  friend,  made  known  our  object,  and  we 
entered,  at  once  and  freely,  into  conversation.    She  invited 
us  into  the  school  room.    Five  black  and  two  white  nuns 
were  engaged  in  teaching,  and  over-looking  the  classes  in 
different  parts  of  the  room.    Not  one  of  them  appeared  to 
notice  our  entrance,  though  I  saw  them  steal  glances  at  us, 
occasionally,  but  timorously,  as  though  afraid  of  being  ob- 
served.   Two  of  them  I  noticed  were  young,  and,  except 
their  paleness,  of  beautiful  appearance.    The  Matron  asked 
one  of  them  to  call  up  a  class  of  girls  for  us  to  examine  in  the 
various  branches  of  a  common  English  education.  They 
were  misses,  I  should  say  from  twelve  to  sixteen  years  old. 
We  found  them  intelligent,  and  well  advanced  in  practical 
arithmetic,  geography,  history,  and  grammar ;  some  of  them 
were  excellent  readers,  pronouncing  distinctly,  and  in  that 
clear,  full  rich,  voice  for  which  Irish  orators  are  justly  dis- 
tinguished. We  were  also  shown  specimens  of  their  chiro- 
graphy,  which  were  truly  elegant. 

I  have  forgotten  the  exact  number  of  scholars  in  the 
school,  but  should  judge  not  less  than  two  hundred  and  fifty, 
probably  more.  I  remember  the  matron  told  me  there  were 
eighteen  hundred  in  the  several  national  schools  which  were 
under  the  care  of  nuns.  They  were  generally  comfortably 
dressed,  though  many  looked  poor.  The  sisters  clothe  the 
most  destitute,  and  the  civil  authorities  furnish  plain  food 
for  their  noon-day  lunch,  which  is  distributed  in  the  school 
room.  This  we  were  assured  is  a  strong  inducement  for 
many  to  attend  school,  who,  but  for  it,  would  be  left  to  grow 
up  in  ignorance  and  neglect,  to  swell  the  vast  catalogue  of 
miserable  wretches,  old  and  young,  which  swarm  in  this 
country,  and  live  in  poverty  or  die  of  starvation. 

NATIONAL  SCHOOLS. 

The  "  National  Schools"  are  one  of  the  main  hopes  of 


2(>2 


NATIONAL  SCHOOLS 


Ireland,  lor  which  the  English  government  deserves  some 
praise,  though  it  has  failed  to  give  them  the  importance  and 
privileges  they  deserve.  It  has  not  adopted  a  thorough, 
comprehensive,  efficient,  and  liberal  system  of  education. 
It  has  been  jealous  and  treated  meanly,  and  grudgingly  with 
this  people.  It  is  not  long  since  all  learning  was  confined 
to  the  Established  church,  for  which  large  appropriations 
were  made  ;  while  upon  a  Roman  Catholic  teacher,  as  a 
school  master  or  private  tutor,  the  punishment  of  transpor- 
tation was  inflicted.  Who  can  wonder  that,  under  such 
laws,  enforced  upon  a  nation  bigoted  in  its  religion,  the  peo- 
ple would  prefer  ignorance  to  apostacy,  and  nearly  one  half 
grow  up  unable  to  read  and  write.  Add  to  this  as  a  result, 
perhaps,  that  many  priests  have  opposed  the  general  and  in- 
discriminate education  of  the  people,  for  fear  they  would 
know  too  much  to  be  controlled  by  their  false  claims.  But 
the  people  generally  have  always  been  anxious  to  obtain  an 
education,  and  many,  in  all  ages,  have  been  ripe  scholars. 

It  is  not  much  over  fifty  years,  since  a  Catholic  was  per- 
mitted to  act  in  the  capacity  of  a  teacher,  nor  is  it  forty 
since  he  received  any  support  from  Parliament,  while  the 
Episcopal  teacher  was  well  paid.  In  1811,  a  society  was 
formed  in  Dublin,  of  both  Protestant,  and  Catholics,  called 
the  "  Kildare  St.  Society,"  to  unite  in  a  system  of  national 
education.  The  next  year  Parliament  made  liberal  appro- 
priations to  this  society,  and  withdrew  the  exclusive  aid  be- 
fore given  to  the  church  teachers.  This  society  was  in 
character,  much  like  the  New  York  "  Public  School  Socie- 
ty"— a  private  corporation  entrusted  with  the  expenditure 
of  public  money.  It  insisted  upon  the  Holy  Scriptures  be- 
ing read  in  the  schools — the  Protestant  version  to  Protest- 
ants, and  the  Catholic  version  to  Catholics,  but  in  both  cases 
without  note  or  comment. 

The  schools  prospered  for  a  time  very  well,  till  the 
Catholic  clergy  took  the  alarm,  and  brought  their  whole  in- 
fluence against  a  practice  so  dangerous  as  teaching  the 
young  to  read  the  Bible !    They  did  not  allow  adults  to 


AS   NOW   .M  A  NAG  ED. 


263 


read,  or  to  understand  it  for  themselves,  and  how  could  they 
consent  to  have  children  deceived  and  corrupted  by  a  know- 
ledge of  its  sacred  pages  ?  Hence,  in  twenty  years,  few 
schools  existed,  except  among  the  Protestant  parts  of  the 
kingdom.  The  clergy  had  persuaded  the  people  to  abandon 
them,  preferring  ignorance  to  knowledge,  unless  stamped 
with  the  "  traditions"  of  the  church.  It  is  said  the  Pope 
ordered  this  procedure,  fearing,  doubtless,  his  children  would 
become  too  wise  to  submit  to  his  dictation  in  matters  of 
faith  and  practice  ;  as  the  Established  church  had  before 
found,  that  with  an  equal  education,  Protestantism  would 
be  endangered  with  the  superior  ability  and  claims  of  the 
Roman  Catholics. 

At  length,  in  1831,  Lord  Stanly  procured  the  passage  of 
a  law  which  withdrew  the  grants  from  the  Kildare  Society, 
and  constituted  a  board  of  education  for  the  poor  of  Ire- 
land, including-  the  Protestant  and  Roman  Catholic  arch- 
bishops  of  Dublin,  and  other  distinguished  men  of  all  per- 
suasions. This  board  is  entrusted  with  the  outlay  of  public 
grants,  in  building  school  houses,  paying  teachers,  furnishing 
books,  and  managing  all  the  schools  which  receive  aid  from 
the  government.  Like  the  common  schools  in  some  of  our 
States,  no  help  is  given  to  those  w7ho  will  not  help  them- 
selves. Each  town,  or  neighborhood,  district  we  would  say, 
which  will  raise  a  certain  amount,  receives  liberal  grants 
from  the  board,  in  most  cases  equal  to  seventy  per  cent. 
Every  four  years  sets  of  primary  books  are  furnished  gratui- 
tously, and  others  at  halt  cost  prices.  A  normal  school  has 
been  established  in  Dublin,  on  the  most  approved  and 
thorough  plan  of  education  under  the  direction  of  the  board, 
where  all  teachers  must  be  graduated.  Model  schools  in 
each  county  are  also  established. 

The  management  of  the  schools  is  on  the  most  liberal 
plan.  Neither  prayers  nor  the  reading  of  the  Bible,  nor 
any  attempt,  at  proselytism  is  allowed,  during  the  regular 
hours ;  though  the  clergy  of  any  sect  may  visit  the  schools 
and,  out  of  school  hours,  teach  what  they  choose.    The  fol- 


2CA 


THE   BIBLE   IN  SCHOOL. 


lowing  excellent  summary  ot"  christian  duties,  prepared  by 
the  Catholic  archbishop  of  Dublin,  I  saw  suspended  in  the 
school  rooms  we  visited. 

"  Christians  should  endeavor,  as  the  Apostle  Paul  commands  them,  to  'live 
peaceably  with  all  men,'  even  with  those  of  a  different  religious  persuasion. 
Our  Saviour,  Christ,  commanded  his  disciples  to  '  love  one  another.'  He 
taught  them  to  love  even  their  enemies,  to  bless  those  that  cursed  them,  and  to 
pray  for  those  who  persecute  them.  He  himself  prayed  for  his  murderers. 
Many  men  hold  erroneous  doctrines,  but  we  ought  not  to  hate  or  persecute 
them.  We  ought  to  seek  for  the  truth,  and  to  hold  fast  what  we  are  convinced 
is  the  truth ;  but  not  to  treat  harshly  those  who  are  in  error.  Jesus  Christ 
did  not  intend  his  religion  to  be  forced  on  men  by  violent  means.  He  would 
not  allow  his  disciples  to  fight  for  him.  If  any  persons  treat  us  unkindly,  we 
must  not  do  the  same  to  them  ;  for  Christ  and  his  Apostles  have  taught  us  not 
to  return  evil  for  evil.  If  we  would  obey  Christ,  we  must  do  to  others,  not  as 
they  do  to  us,  but  as  we  would  wish  them  to  do  to  us.  Quarreling  with  our 
neighbors  and  abusing  ihem,  is  not  tho  way  to  convince  them  that  we  are  in  the 
right,  and  they  in  the  wrong.  It  is  more  likely  to  convince  them  that  we  have 
not  a  Christian  spirit.  We  ought  to  show  ourselves  followers  of  Christ, 
who, '  when  he  was  reviled,  reviled  not  again,'  by  behaving  quietly  and  kindly 
to  every  one." 

A  plan  has  been  suggested  to  incorporate  the  historical 
parts  of  the  Bible,  together  with  the  precepts  and  illustra- 
tions, in  a  book  to  be  read  in  the  schools,  and  the  Board,  I 
believe,  have  agreed,  with  perfect  unanimity,  to  recom- 
mend such  a  work,  but  whether  it  has  been  executed,  I  am 
not  able  to  say.  It  was  understood  that  the  reading  of 
such  scriptural  lessons  was  to  be  left  optional  with  the  pa- 
rents in  the  different  localities.  Nobody  certainly  could 
object  to  such  a  course.  In  fact,  every  thing  has  been 
managed  in  good  faith  by  the  Board,  and  the  great  body 
of  the  community  have  seconded  their  efforts.  The 
Catholics,  generally,  have-  approved  the  plan,  and  the 
priests,  as  in  the  case  mentioned  at  Tralee.  have  urged 
their  people,  from  the  pulpit,  to  avail  themselves  of  these 
opportunities  to  educate  their  children  in  the  knowledge 
indispensable  to  a  successful  and  honorable  life.  The 
Presbyterians,  Methodists,  Independents,  Unitarians,  Qua- 
kers, and  in  fact  all  sects,  have  joined  in  this  noble  and  bene- 


HOSTILITY   OF   THE    ESTABLISHED  CHURCH. 


205 


volent  enterprise.  But,  strange  to  say,  a  large  portion  of  the 
Established  Church  oppose  it  most  strenuously — more  vir- 
ulently than  the  Catholics  did  the  former  method.  The 
most  ridiculous,  abusive,  and  slanderous  language  is  em- 
ployed against  the  liberal  course  pursued  by  the  Board  of 
National  Education. 

I  could  not  account  for  this  bitter  hostility,  had  I  not 
witnessed  a  like  conflict  in  some  parts  of  our  own  country; 
for,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  the  whole  objection  originated  in 
the  clause  which  leaves  the  reading  of  the  Bible  optional 
with  the  parents.  The  very  matronly  Church  wants  to 
enforce  King  James'  translation  upon  the  young  as  the 
<;  true  word  of  God."  They  forget  that  on  the  title-page  of 
that  version  it  is  said  to  be  "  appointed  to  be  read  in  the 
Churches."  It  says  nothing  of  schools  !  That  is  a  mat- 
ter left  discretionary,  for  those  who  should  encourage  a 
more  liberal  scheme  of  popular  education.  I  have  asked 
several  for  a  solution  of  this  Episcopal  opposition  to  the 
general  diffusion  of  useful  knowledge.  The  only  answer  I 
get  is,  that  it  is  calculated  to  bring  the  Established  Church 
into  disrepute,  and  help  sustain  the  "  old  harlot  that  sitteth 
on  seven  hills."  I  never  hear  that  exDression  without  in- 
quiring  after  the  conduct  of  her  Eldest  Daughter ! 

In  spite  of  the  opposition  of  the  Establishment,  mani- 
fested in  many  ways,  the  Board  have  gone  steadily  forward 
with  their  Christian  work,  and  have  had  great  success.  I 
am  told  more  than  four  thousand  schools  have  been  estab- 
lished, which  are  attended  by  over  five  hundred  thousand 
children.*    This  is  doing  gloriously.    It  should  be  remem- 

*  The  Church  Establishment  had,  last  year,  only  116,968  enrolled  schol- 
ars in  2,000  schools,  scattered  all  over  the  kingdom.  These  are  parochial 
schools,  patronized  by  the  nobility,  gentry,  and  church  magnates,  whose  mo- 
ney and  zeal  are  given  freely  for  their  support ;  though,  as  yet,  the  govern- 
ment has  refused  to  bestow  the  grants  asked  for.  By  the  report  I  see  that 
57,633  pupils  are  the  children  of  Episcopalians,  14,697  of  Dissenters,  and 
44,688  of  Roman  Catholics.  These  are  not  much  better  schools  than  the 
others,  from  which  they  are  distinguished  by  two  considerations :  First,  They 
insist  upon  a  thoroughly  sectarian  education     Every  teacher  must  be  a  mem- 

2* 


266 


HONORABLE  CONDUCT 


bered  that  these  schools  are  generally  patronized  by  the 
children  of  the  poor,  but  such  poor  as  are  able  to  pay  a 
portion  of  the  expense.  This  fact  I  regret  more  than  any 
other,  inasmuch  as  there  are  thousands  of  families  who 
have  no  means  at  all,  to  pay  any  part  of  their  children's 
education,  as  in  cases  mentioned  at  Cloghereen.  We 
meet  with  innumerable  families  too  poor  to  educate  their 
children.  In  such  cases,  under  the  present  arrangement, 
private  charity  is  to  be  invoked,  or  the  children  of  the 
poorest  classes  must  grow  up,  after  all,  in  ignorance.  The 
large  school  we  have  above  described,  in  connection  with 
the  convent  of  the  "  Sisters  of  Mercy,"  is  an  illustration 
of  the  necessity  of  this  kind  of  aid. 

I  again  mention,  with  feelings  of  the  profoundest  satis- 
faction, the  honorable  and  trulv  Christian  conduct  of  the 
Catholic  clergy,  and  people  generally,  in  reference  to  the 

ber  of  the  Established  Church,  and  not  only  cause  the  Bible  to  be  read  as  a 
part  of  the  school  exercises,  but  also  give  special  instruction  in  the  doctrines 
and  formularies  of  the  church,  especially  to  all  the  children  of  parents  in  her 
communion,  and  to  such  others  as  will  consent  to  suclj  proselyting  interfer- 
ence. These  schools  are  placed  in  the  superintendence  of  the  parochial  cler- 
gy, who  have  the  right  to  interfere  and  direct  in  their  management.  Second- 
ly, They  are  the  schools  of  the  higher  classes,  of  the  aristocracy,  and  are  at- 
tended by  children  who  are  not  permitted  to  associate  with  the  common  peo- 
ple. They  are  sustained  for  the  purpose  of  preserving  distinction  and  sustain- 
ing rank,  as  well  as  the  Episcopal  Church ! 

Hence  it  is  not  surprising  that  they  have  succeeded  so  well.  They  have 
wealth,  influence,  pride,  and  religious  zeal  and  bigotry  in  their  favor,  and  all 
the  appliances  necessary  to  great  prosperity,  and  need  not  the  charity  of  Par- 
liament to  help  them  forward.  It  is  regretted  that  a  more  liberal  spirit  can 
not  be  infused  through  them,  that  the"  better  classes"  are  so  determined  to  keep 
up  invidious  distinctions  among  th?  young,  and  thus  hinder  the  moral  and  in- 
tellectual elevation  of  the  nation.  But  such  is  aristocracy,  and  such  is  secta- 
rianism, in  all  ages  and  countries,  let  the  name  be  what  it  may.  In  our  own 
boasted  land  of  free  and  republican  schools,  a  society  taking  the  lofty  name  of 
"  National  Education"  has  been  formed,  to  educate  for,  and  send  teachers  to 
the  Western  States,  of  a  particularly  religious  stamp.  Anti -republican  and  un- 
christian as  the  movement  is,  it  finds  many  friends  and  advocates.  But  I  am 
thankful  that  neither  there  nor  here  are  the  governments  guilty  of  approbating 
such  inconsistencies. 


OF   THE   CATHOLIC  CLERGY. 


present  liberal  system  of  national  education.  Too  much 
can  not  be  said  in  their  praise,  for  this  noble  demonstration 
in  behalf  of  their  countrymen.  It  is  a  triumphant  refuta- 
tion of  the  accusation  that  they  are  the  advocates  of  igno- 
rance. I  can  not  assert,  with  confidence,  that  they  have 
fully  changed  their  ground  upon  this  subject.  But  if  they 
have,  there  is  the  greater  reason  for  joy  and  approbation. 
It  is  one  step,  and  an  important  one,  towards  Irish 
emancipation  ;  better  and  wiser  than  all  the  Repeal  move- 
ments of  O'Connel,  or  republican  attempts  of  less  prudent 
agitators. 

It  may  be  regretted  that  objection  is  made  to  the  public 
and  formal  reading  of  the  Scriptures.  But  the  propriety 
of  that  measure  has  been  questioned  by  many  honest  and 
zealous  Protestants,  in  England  and  America,  who  respect 
the  authority  of  the  written  Word  as  highly  as  any  can, 
and  repudiate,  in  toto,  the  false  and  ridiculous  traditions 
of  the  Romish  church.  It  is  a  great  cause  of  lamentation 
that  the  Established  clergy  are  so  bitterly  opposed  to  this 
liberal  system.  It  is  the  best,  if  not  the  only  method,  by 
which  the  hatred  and  hostility  of  the  churches  and  races 
can  be  removed,  and  any  thing  like  union  and  peace  be  se- 
cured to  this  distracted  nation.  Let  children  of  all  ranks, 
races,  and  religions  be  educated  in  the  same  school,  and  the 
next  generation  will  know  nothing  of  the  social  evils  that 
now  exist.  It  does  seem  as  if  there  was  no  mercy,  no  re- 
spect for  the  welfare  of  the  Irish  people  on  the  part  of  the 
English,  but  a  settled  determination  to  crush  the  hope  of 
the  nation,  by  opposing  every  measure  which  government 
may  adopt  for  their  amelioration,  enfranchisement  as  a 
part  of  the  British  empire. 

As  a  Protestant  and  a  republican,  I  have  no  sympathy 
nor  respect  whatever  for  the  Roman  Catholic  faith  and 
pretensions,  as  such ;  but  I  love  justice  and  humanity  from 
a  sentiment  deeper  than  sect  or  nation,  I  trust,  and  there- 
fore speak  as  I  do  upon  this  subject.  Had  the  church 
party  at  once  and  heartily  joined  in  the  plan  of  Lord  Stan- 


208 


OPPOSITION  OF  tin;  state  church. 


ley  for  a  liberal  system  of  national  education,  instead  of 
opposing  it,  the  ten  years  past  would  have  advanced  the  na- 
tion half  a  century,  and  could  have  saved  it  from  the  sights  of 
poverty,  ignorance  and  crime  which  now  so  disgrace  all 
parts  of  it,  and  agitate  it  to  the  very  centre.  But  with  a  de- 
gree of  madness,  stupidity,  and  bigotry  the  most  reprehen- 
sible, they  have  held  out  in  opposition  to  the  acts  of  the 
government,  and  the  pleadings  of  philanthropy,  and  used 
their  utmost  endeavors  to  paralyze  these  efforts  and  destroy 
the  forlorn  hope  of  Ireland's  redemption.  And  they  have 
succeeded  but  too  well ;  not  so  much  by  the  numbers  of  chil- 
dren they  have  persuaded  from  the  National  schools,  as  by 
keeping  up  and  increasing  a  most  inveterate  hatred  be- 
tween the  inhabitants,  wherever  thev  could. 

It  does  really  seem  as  if  the  Church,  and  its  supporters 
and  abettors,  were  determined  to  extirpate  by  ignorance, 
persecution,  oppression,  and  famine,  the  whole  Irish  race, 
that  the  lands,  lakes,  and  streams  of  this  beautiful  island 
they  have  so  long  coveted  may  be  theirs.  I  am  every 
hour  more  thoroughly  convinced  that  such  is  the  settled 
policy  of  the  Anglo-Irish  population,  and  that  the  govern- 
ment winks  at  their  doings,  except  in  pretence.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  another  half  century  should  see  the 
Irish  people  all  banished,  by  an  indirect  expulsion,  or  by  a 
positive  edict,  as  in  Cromwell's  time.  The  Church  and 
the  landlords  seem  to  contemplate  such  an  event  with 
great  satisfaction,  and  to  hurry  it  on  as  fast  as  they  can. 

But  here  comes  in  another  view  of  the  subject,  alike  re- 
prehensible on  the  part  of  the  Catholics,  or,  rather,  a  por- 
tion of  them,  who  have  the  interest  of  party  and  sect  more 
at  heart  than  the  good  of  the  nation,  and  the  honor  and 
happiness  of  humanity.  I  mean  the  opposition  lately 
shown  on  the  part  of  the  "  Roman  See"  to  the  extended 
and  completed  system  of  national  education.  The  govern- 
ment, in  accordance  with  the  advice  of  the  Board,  had 
adopted  measures  for  the  establishment  of  colleges  in  the 
different  provinces,  to  give  opportunities  for  a  thorough  and 


OPPOSITION   OF   THE   ROMAN  SEE. 


269 


finished  education.  The  operations  before  noticed  referred 
only  to  a  common  education  in  the  useful  sciences,  and 
were  designed  principally  for  the  poorer  classes.  The  col- 
leges were  established  for  those  who  were  able  and  willing 
to  pursue  a  course  of  classic  education.  The  same  liberal 
basis  was  adopted,  which  lay  at  the  foundation  of  the  ele- 
mentary schools.  All  sectarian  interference  was  strictlv 
forbidden,  while  a  proper  respect  for  the  authority  of  reli- 
gion, and  a  strictly  moral  life  were  distinctly  enforced. 
But  theology  was  to  form  no  part  of  a  regular  course. 
Professors  in  the  various  departments  were  all  appointed 
from  the  ranks  of  laymen,  and  irrespective  of  sectarian 
bias.  They  are  men  of  enlarged  and  liberal  views,  well- 
educated,  and  every  way  fitted  for  apt  teachers.  It  is  un- 
derstood that  the  dignitaries  in  the  Romish  church  were 
pleased  with  this  arrangement,  as  well  as  with  the  grants 
given  to  the  Maynooth  college,  which  is  avowedly  Roman 
Catholic. 

All  went  well,  however,  till  a  rescript  from  the  mana- 
gers of  the  Church  at  Rome  was  received,  which  condemns 
these  colleges  as  "  Godless  institutions,"  calculated  to  sus- 
tain infidelity  and  irreligion,  and  subvert  the  work  of 
grace,  and  insists,  pertinaciously,  that  all  the  true  and  faith- 
ful children  of  the  Church  shall  withhold  their  encourage- 
ment from  them,  and  devote  all  their  influence  to  the  sup- 
port of  a  Catholic  university,  where  the  young  men  can 
be  nursed  in  the  saving  principles  of  the  "  Holv  Catholic 
Church." 

This  movement,  it  is  supposed,  was  got  up  in  retaliation 
for  the  course  pursued  by  the  "  Church  Society,"  in  refu- 
sing to  act  harmoniouslv  in  the  management  of  the  Na- 
tional  Schools.  It  is  much  to  be  lamented,  that  a  Pope 
who  has  gained  some  reputation  for  liberality,  should  adopt 
a  policy  so  destructive  to  the  peace  and  permanent  pros- 
perity of  this  island.  No  doubt  he  has  been  deceived  by 
the  fabrications  of  designing  and  malicious  priests,  who 
are  afraid  that  evils  will  attend  the  free  education  of  the 

23* 


270 


BLIGHTING  INFLUENCE 


people,  or  else,  would  take  vengeance  upon  the  govern- 
ment Church.  It  does  seem  as  if  every  effort  to  redeem 
this  nation,  however  wise,  just,  and  liberal,  is  destined  to 
failure,  through  the  bitter  hatred  and  perpetual  animosity 
of  sectarists.  The  British  Parliament  deserves  much  cre- 
dit for  keeping  aloof  from  this  partisan  and  suicidal  war- 
fare, and  I  can  but  hope  the  government  will  keep  straight 
on  in  its  determination  to  give  a  liberal  and  unsectarian  edu- 
cation to  the  young  men  of  Ireland.  A  few  years  will 
convince  the  most  sceptical  and  bigoted  of  the  wisdom  and 
humanity  of  this  course.  The  measure  will  be  sustained,  and 
these  schools  will  stand  up  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  nation, 
when  party  zeal  and  sectarian  hostility  are  lost,  like  the 
darkness  of  night  in  the  universal  enlightenment  and  libe- 
rality which  shall  soon  prevail  all  over  the  world. 

The  good  matron  expressed  her  opinions  very  freely  on 
many  subjects,  and  exhibited  a  large  share  of  knowledge  in 
the  domestic  affairs  of  her  nation  and  our  own.  She 
spoke  of  several  pupils  who  had  left  her  tuition  and  gone 
to  America,  most  of  whom  had  made  out  very  well.  She 
also  expressed  the  highest  admiration  of  our  country,  espe- 
cially for  the  generous  conduct  of  our  citizens  towards 
her  famished  countrymen  last  year. 

The  hour  for  dismission  having  nearly  arrived,  we  took 
our  leave,  thanking  her  for  her  kind  attentions,  while  she 
expressed,  in  words,  her  great  gratification  at  receiving  a 
visit  from  us,  and  bestowing  many  blessings,  and  prayers 
for  our  successful  journey  and  safe  return.  But  she,  all  the 
while,  manifested  the  same  cold  and  reserved  dignity  as  at 
first — the  result,  no  doubt,  of  the  severe  austerity  of  her 
manner  of  life.  I  can  not  believe  that  human  nature  re- 
ceives its  highest  attainments  by  this  system  of  training. 
There  is  wanting  that  vivacity,  spirit,  and  cheerfulness,  so 
often  commended  in  the  teachings  of  Jesus  and  his  apos- 
tles. The  acts  of  benevolence,  and  even  a  whole  life  con- 
secrated to  virtue  and  charity,  I  can  understand  and  appre- 
ciate.   But  I  can  see  no  propriety  in  the  cold,  stiff  formal- 


OF   A   MONASTIC  LIFE. 


271 


ity  and  exclusiveness  of  the  ascetic  life.  It  is  a  withering 
misdirection  of  the  tenderer  sympathies  and  holier  affec 
tions  of  the  human  heart — the  extreme  of  the  rash,  impe- 
tuous, and  violent  passions  of  persons  of  mere  impulse. 
Christianity  indicates  a  steady,  regular,  full  flow  of  the 
kindliest  feelings,  and  the  friendliest  interchange  of  the  so- 
cial and  domestic  affections,  controlled  by  reason  and  good 
judgment ;  and  not  a  refusal  to  apply  to  these  sources  of 
present,  innocent  enjoyment,  and  growing  happiness. 
Still,  in  the  present  admixture  of  affairs  in  this  imperfect 
world,  it  is  well,  undoubtedly,  that  these  monastic  orders 
exist.  They  have  a  space  and  a  mission  appointed  them, 
and  help  do  something  to  make  up  the  sum  and  variety  of 
a  perfect  whole.  They  are  not  an  end,  however — only  a 
means ;  and,  for  all  their  good  works,  deserve  to  be  praised, 
while  for  their  errors  we  have  forgiveness,  and  for  their 
miseries  a  tear. 

The  Irish-town,  viewed  by  daylight,  is  a  decided  im- 
provement, in  some  respects,  upon  the  other.  Its  streets  are 
wider,  its  houses  generally  better,  and  its  inhabitants  less 
squalid  and  wicked  :  at  least  we  saw  less  open  shame  and  de- 
graded misery,  though  quite  enough  of  both.  Near  one  of  the 
bridges  which  joins  these  towns,  are  the  extensive  flouring 
mills'  of  the  Russels,  the  great  business  men  of  the  city. 
They  are  said  to  be  immensely  rich  ;  to  own,  in  addition  to 
these  mills,  distilleries,  breweries,  and  a  "  pig  factory,"  con- 
taining nearly  a  million  of  pigs,  which  number  are  slaugh- 
tered here  annually,  besides  several  ships  engaged  in  the 
American  trade. 

There  is  in  other  parts  of  the  city  large  glove,  brush, 
cotton,  blonde,  and  lace  manufactories.  In  the  latter  it  is 
said  over  one  thousand  girls  are  constantly  employed,  and 
that  an  article,  equal  in  beauty  and  goodness  to  the  best 
Mechlin  lace,  is  manufactured  in  them.  In  fact,  as  before 
remarked,  the  city  presents  the  evidence  of  a  fair  amount 
of  enterprise,  industry,  and  thrift. 


272 


A  READING-ROOM. 


Coming  down  the  main  street,  we  were  invited  into  the 
large,  elegant,  and  well  furnished  reading-room.  Files  of 
English,  Irish,  Continental,  and  American  papers  were  ar- 
ranged about  the  spacious  apartment,  and  forty  or  fifty  well 
dressed,  and  intelligent  looking  men  were  busy  reading  them, 
or  discussing  the  movements  of  the  government,  and  the 
conduct  of  the  agitators.  We  read  and  listened,  and 
found  most  of  the  papers  and  the  talkers  to  be  truly  loyal. 
I  busied  myself  also — for  a  time,  in  copying  from  a  Limerick 
paper,  the  number  and  character  of  the  ejectments  which 
had  taken  place  in  that  neighborhood,  within  a  short  time 
previous.  From  one  estate  seventy-two  families,  of  five 
hundred  and  twenty-one  persons,  had  been  turned  houseless 
and  friendless  upon  the  world  ;  from  another,  twenty-one 
families,  one  hundred  and  nine  persons;  from  another,  thir- 
ty-three families,  and  one  hundred  and  eighty-two ;  and  so 
on,  till  I  counted  up  from  twro  papers,  over  seventeen 
hundred  persons  who  had  been  forcibly  ejected  from  their 
homes,  and  from  all  means  of  subsistence. 

I  noticed  particularly  the  merciful  conduct  of  one  land- 
lord— a  clergyman,  which  wras  given  as  a  specimen  of  true 
philanthropy,  and  Christian  benevolence,  in  contrast  with  the 
more  barbarous  cruelty  of  other  cases  described.  Wishing 
to  get  rid  of  his  tenants,  instead  of  turning  them  out  pen- 
niless, to  shirk  by  beggary  or  plunder,  as  so  many  others 
had  been,  he  gave  to  each  family,  for  their  improvement, 
half  enough  to  pay  their  passage  to  America,  in  case  they 
actually  went.  This  case  was  lauded  to  the  skies,  and  of- 
fered as  an  example  for  others  to  imitate.* 

There  are  often  cases  of  the  grossest  cruelty  and  in- 
justice, in  the  ejectment  of  tenants,  who  do  not  please  the 

*  Numerous  cases  came  to  my  knowledge  afterwards,  where  the  landlords 
had  bought  up  leases  and  tenant  rights,  on  condition  the  owners  would  remove 
to  America  ;  and  also  other  instances  where  collections  had  been  made  to  send 
persons  from  the  workhouses — paupers  and  persons  guilty  of  small  Crimea — 
to  our  country  for  us  to  support.  Such  is  the  glory  of  British  philanthropy 
and  justice  !  and  such  the  source  of  the  wretchedness  and  high  taxes  which 
abound  in  our  cities  ! 


EJECTMENTS. 


273 


landlord,  middleman,  or  the  agents,  or  who  stand  in  the  way 
of  the  introduction  of  some  English  or  Scotch  tenants,  who 

o  • 

understand  better  the  arts  of  agriculture,  or  are  more 
supple  to  further  the  ambitious  projects  of  their  noble  mas- 
ter !  Sometimes  a  sporting  landlord,  long  an  absentee, 
wants  to  lav  out  a  hunting  park,  and  therefore  drives  off  fif- 
ty or  a  hundred  families,  from  their  homes,  turns  four  or  five 
hundred  poor  helpless  creatures,  empty-handed,  upon  the 
cold  charities  of  the  world,  who  must  beg,  steal,  or  starve, 
for  there  is  no  chance  for  them  to  work,  and  thev  have  no 
means  with  which  to  obtain  a  lease,  nor  to  get  "  till  Amir- 
iky." 

Talk  of  Southern  slavery  !  In  practice  it  is  not  a  thou- 
sandth part  as  wrong,  as  cruel,  and  abominable  as  the  tenant 
system  of  Ireland.  Our  planters  are  obliged  to  treat  their 
slaves  mercifully,  to  provide  for  them  in  sickness  and  old 
a^e,  and  always  give  them  enough  to  eat.  But  here  if  the 
rent  is  not  paid,  the  constable  is  called  in,  and  the  tenant 
distrained,  and  if  he  can  not  pay  he  is  evicted — wife  and 
children  turned  pennyless  upon  the  world  to  dig  a  shelter 
in  a  bog,  or  build  one  by  the  stone  wall,  and  get  his  food  as 
best  he  can.  I  abominate  the  American  slave  system  from 
the  bottom  of  my  soul.  What  then  must  be  my  feelings  in 
the  midst  of  such  scenes  of  wrong  and  suffering  as  abounds 
in  all  parts  of  this  ill-fated  country.  They  are  indescriba- 
ble.* 

*  "  In  Galway  Union,  recent  accounts  declared  the  number  of  poor  evicted, 
and  their  homes  leveled  within  the  last  two  years,  to  equal  the  number  in  Kil- 
rush — 1,000  families  and  20,000  human  beings  are  said  to  have  been  here  ako 
thrown  out  upon  the  road,  houseless  and  homeless.  I  can  readily  believe  the 
statement,  for  to  me  some  parts  of  the  country  appeared  like  an  enormous 
graveyard — the  numerous  gables  of  the  unroofed  dwellings  seeming  to  be 
gigantic  tombstones.  They  were,  indeed,  records  of  decay  and  death  far  more 
melancholy  than  any  grave-yard  can  show.  Looking  on  them,  the  doubt  arose 
in  my  mind,  am  I  in  a  civilized  country  !  Have  we  really  a  free  constitution  ? 
Can  such  scenes  be  paralleled  in  Siberia  or  CatJVarla  .'* — P.  Sckope,  M.  P. 
Notes  ox  Ireland. 

**  Dear  Sir :  I  have  been  for  the  last  ten  days  through  the  Counties  of 
Limerick,  Galway,  Clare,  and  across  thence  to  the  King's  County  All 


274  m  ENGLISH  COMl'ASSION 

I  am  overwhelmed !  Oh  England,  thou  boasted  land  of 
freedom  and  justice,  of  philosophy  and  nobleness,  of  reli- 
gion and  philanthropy, — English  laws,  the  models  of  chris- 
tian jurisprudence — British  honor  and  magnanimity — spirit 
of  Blackstone  and  Wilberforce — speeches  of  Peel  and 
Russell — glory  of  Wellington,  himself  an  Irishman — pride 
and  extra-valance  of  Victoria!  What  meaneth  these  roof- 
less  huts,  these  starved  stomachs,  cadaverous  faces,  naked 
limbs,  and  scattered  corpses !  Have  ye  compassion  for  the 
well-fed,  laughing,  singing,  shining  black  men  of  our  repub- 
lic ?  It  is  well.  But  remember  "charity  begins  at  home  " 
When  ye  have  purged  away  the  wrongs  and  miseries  of 
your  own  sea-girt  isles,  then  come  to  our  relief.  But  till 
then  stand  mute,  in  shame  !  Who  ever  heard  of  the  starva- 
tion of  slaves,  whether  crops  fail  or  not  ?  But  who  has  not 
heard  of  the  famished  thousands  of  Ireland,  whose  carcasses 
are  strown  over  the  lands  of  "  noble  lords,  and  right  honor- 
able barons,"  who  live  in  magnificence  and  luxury  in  Lon- 
don, and  help  make  laws  for  the  empire,  and  still  weep 
crocodile  tears  over  the  wrongs  of  American  slavery  ?  Oh 
Heavens,  is  there  no  cloud  to  cover  the  disgrace  of  earth ! 

I  also  read  in  one  paper  a  very  precise  account,  which 
ran  thus :  "  Her  majesty,  with  his  royal  highness,  and  the 
Prince  of  Wales  took  an  airing  in  Hyde  Park  this  morning. 
Her  majesty  was  clad  in," — too  much  fustian  for  me  to 
copy.  In  another  part  of  the  same  paper  was  a  glowing 
account  of  a  drawing-room  at  St.  James',  with  a  full  and 
particular  account  of  the  dresses  of  the  noble  ladies  in  at- 
tendance, the  wives  of  several  Irish  lords  among  them. 
The  dress  of  one  of  these  ladies  would  have  purchased  food 
enough  to  have  saved  the  lives  of  fifty  starving  persons,  who 

attempts  to  depict  the  existing  state  of  the  misery  of  the  masses  beyond  the 
Shannon  must  come  utterly  short  of  the  truth.  All  that  tract  of  country 
from  Killaloe  to  Portumna,  on  the  Galway  side  of  the  Shannon,  is  lying 
waste  and  uncultivated,  About  three  out  of  four  of  the  miserable  huts  are 
unroofed.  Some  of  the  former  inmates  are  dead,  some  in  the  union,  and 
some  few  huddled  together  in  one  or  two  of  the  huts  still  existing.  The  men 
generally  have  perished." — Evemng  Packet. 


FOR   AMERICAN  SLAVERY. 


275 


have  been  ejected  from  their  rights  for  the  non-payment  of 
rent.  But  no,  that  is  nothing!  What  are  the  lives  of  fifty 
poor,  ignorant  Irish  Catholics  to  a  diamond  pin  or  a  satin 
dress  ?  Nothing,  sir,  nothing !  Away  with  your  radical 
democracy,  socialism,  "  sickish  sentimentality."  You  use 
seditious  language  !  You  speak  against  the  Queen.  But  I 
speak  in  the  name  of  the  King  of  kings,  and  Lord  of  lords. 
Art  thou  a  Christian  ?  Thou  professest  to  be.  Thinkest 
thou  then  that  God  will  hold  thee  guiltless  of  the  life  of  thy 
starved  tenant — thy  brother  ?  Hast  thou  no  care,  no  wish 
for  his  soul,  that  it  may  be  saved — for  his  life,  that  it  may 
be  spared  ?  What  have  these  poor  little  children  done  to 
deserve  such  neglect — such  abuse — that  they  should  be 
turned  out  of  doors  to  starve  in  the  fields,  or '  in  the  road, 
and  there  lay  unburied — while  thou  hast  no  need  for  their 
poor  mud  hovels,  but  begrudged  them  even  those  ?  Canst 
thou  rest  in  peace,  while  these  tortured  souls  are  crying  to 
heaven  for  mercy,  as  their  bodies  lay  quivering  on  the  cold 
ground  till  death  comes  to  their  relief?  Dance  on,  then,  in 
your  royal  court  robes  of  gilt  and  satin,  and  eat  what  you 
can  of  the  delicate  dainties  set  before  vou,  but  know  that 
for  all  this,  thou  and  thy  country  shall  be  brought  into  judg- 
ment !  But  one  thing  I  beseech  of  you,  for  your  own  sakes 
— do  not  squander  your  tears  upon  the  poor  slaves  of 
America  while  you  have  so  much  more  need  of  them  at 
home  !   It  is  needless. 

After  some  hours  spent  in  writing,  we  took  a  walk  across 
the  Wellesley  bridge,  a  magnificent  structure,  which  we  in- 
spected closely  and  with  admiration.  We  have  few  such 
specimens  of  solid,  and  thorough  architecture  in  the  bridges 
of  our  country.  It  consists  of  five  large  elliptic  arches  ex- 
tending from  the  solid  stone  quay  across  the  Shannon.  An 
elegant  stone  balustrade  forms  the  parapet  on  either  side, 
and  the  roadway  is  level  and  wide.  The  end  on  the  city 
side  is  formed  of  a  swing  for  the  admission  of  vessels 
through  the  lock  into  the  basin  above.    In  our  countrv  this 


270 


THE  LIMERICK-STONE. 


bridge  and  the  quays  adjoining,  would  be  considered  a  great, 
curiosity.  They  are  so  too  us,  and  can  not  fail  to  be  at- 
tractive to  everybody,  as  massive  works 'of  art. 

The  inhabitants  complain,  and  probably  not  without 
cause,  that  the  government  ought  to  add  to  the  other  im- 
provements, a  good  dock  for  the  better  security  of  the 
shipping.  It  is  said  that  strong  gales  often  unmoor  vessels 
and  strand  them  on  the  opposite  shore,  or  dash  them  against 
the  bridge  and  quays  with  great  destruction.  By  some,  it 
is  added,  that  the  outlay  of  a  small  amount  of  money  would 
remove  the  bars  from  the  lower  river,  and  admit  vessels  of 
all  sizes,  such  as  are  now  compelled  to  unload  below  the 
town.  On  the  merits  of  these  complaints,  I  am  not  capa- 
ble of  forming  a  judgment ;  but  there  seems  to  be  force  in 
them,  much  greater  than  in  many  other  things  which  have 
received  the  notice  of  government.  Employment  would, 
at  least,  be  afforded  to  many  now  idle,  and  a  permanent  im- 
provement be  gained,  which  would  be  of  great  advantage 
to  the  city  and  nation. 

From  the  bridge  we  passed  the  Royal  Pauper  House, 
or  barracks — the  curse  of  liberty,  and  the  poverty  of  the 
nation — to  the  famed  "  Limerick-Stone,"  near  the  Thomond 
bridge.  On  this  stone  the  treaty  of  Limerick  was  signed, 
in  1692,  which  ended  its  liberties,  after  a  noble  struggle, 
the  year  previous,  against  the  English  army,  commanded 
by  King  William  in  person  ;  compelled  to  surrender  to  the 
superior  numbers  under  General  Ginkle,  afterwards  created 
a  nobleman  by  the  gift  of  a  large  domain,  under  the  title 
of  the  Earl  of  Athlone.  Whether  any  "  royal  or  noble 
blood"  was  thus  infused  into  his  veins,  does  not  appear 
from  the  account,  but  his  descendants  have  held  the  hono- 
rable right  to  oppress  the  Irish  population  as  much  as  they 
pleased  ever  since.  The  stone  itself  has  been  raised  from 
the  bank  of  the  river,  so  as  to  appear  prominent  above  the 
street.  The  inscription  on  it  is  much  worn,  but  we  learned 
that  it  was  upon  this  stone  that  the  nobles  of  the  beleaguered 
citv  signed  their  submission  to  English  dictation — the  con- 


A   WORK   HOUSE.  277 

eluding  act  in  the  drama  of  English  intervention,  besought 
by  Dermod  Mac  Mur rough  four  hundred  years  before  ! 
A  not  unfrequent  result  of  English  interventions. 

From  the  bridge  we  visited  a  work-house  on  that,  the 
Clare  side  of  the  river,  and  had  a  conversation  with  the 
overseer,  whom  we  met  near  bv.  We  had  no  desire  to  in- 
spect  it.  It  is  a  large  building,  and  the  .outside  appearance 
is  very  respectable.  The  keeper  made  a  bitter  complaint, 
alledging  that  the  immense  taxation  of  Irish  property 
is  the  cause  of  the  ruin  of  the  country.  I  at  once 
guessed  he  was  a  landowner,  which  he  confessed  after- 
wards. This  class  are  for  ever  grumbling  about  exorbitant 
taxes.  In  fact,  nobody  seems  to  be  satisfied  in  this  coun- 
try. All  complain  in  one  way  or  an  other.  Most  assert 
that  the  "  poor-law"  is  the  great  evil — the  prolific  source 
of  all  the  misery,  forgetting  that  fifty  thousand  soldiers  are 
quartered  in  the  country,  and  as  many  policemen,  who 
must  be  paid  and  fed,  to  say  nothing  about  the  millions  ex- 
ported annually,  to  feed  and  clothe  absentee  landlords,  and 
pay  for  their  extravagance  and  carousals,  for  which  no  re- 
turn is  made. 

On  the  side  of  the  hill,  overlooking  the  city  and  river,  is 
situated  a  splendid  mansion  of  some  body,  whose  name  I 
did  not  learn.  The  grounds  about  it  are  laid  out  and  or- 
namented with  princely  magnificence,  and,  but  for  the  ho- 
vels of  the  poor  near  by  it,  would  make  a  beautiful  appear- 
ance. As  it  is,  it  appears  like  a  "  pearl  in  a  swine's  nest." 
The  front  garden  is  adorned  with  statues  of  heathen  gods, 
lions,  and  eagles — kings  of  men,  of  beasts  and  birds !  I  at 
once  concluded  he  must  be  a  true  and  loyal  knight,  for 
these  are  fit  emblems  of  one  wrhose  splendor  contrasts  so 
strangely  with  the  poverty  about  him. 

Wherever  we  went,  wre  were  beset  by  beggars,  w7ho 
stuck  to  us  like  the  galiinippers  of  our  southern  States. 
We  could  not  shake  them  off.  To  give  to  one  was  to  call 
about  us  twenty  others  more  destitute  and  clamorous. 

mi 

The  evening  is  the  time  when  they  issue  out  from  their 

24 


278 


SETTLING    A  BILL. 


dens,  and  loiter  about  the  streets,  sit  at  the  corners,  about 
the  doors  of  the  hotels  and  places  of  resort,  every  where, 
stretching  out  their  withered  hands,  and  turning  up  their 
sunken  eyes,  imploringly,  with  a  "  The  Lord  bliss  yer 
honor,  an'  yell  give  a  poor  crayture  a  ha'-penny,  till  buy 
soome  bread  for  the  childers." 

This  is  the  time,  too,  when  a  still  more  abandoned  crew 
— the  morally  depraved — crawl  out  of  their  lurking  pla- 
ces, and  perambulate  the  streets,  in  search  of  their  prey. 
Hosts  of  these  miserable,  unfortunate  beings  patrol  the 
streets,  accosting  one  at  every  turn,  but  in  a  manner  so 
abashed  and  hesitating  as  to  prove  that  all  sense  of  virtue 
and  decency  is  not  yet  destroyed.  We  were  glad  to  make 
a  retreat  at  an  early  hour  to  the  quiet  rooms  of  our  hotel, 
and  find,  in  writing,  reflection,  and  sleep,  a  relief  from  the 
miseries  we  had  witnessed. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MORE  TALK  THAN  TRAVEL. 

Settling  a  Bill.— The  Canal.— O'Brien's  Castle.— Falls  of  the  Shannon.— 
Castle  Connel. — Tipperary. — Causes  of  Outrages. — Remedies. — Struggle 
for  Land. — Evictions. — Toomevara. — Intimidations. — Landlords  at  Fault. 
— Good  Usage  makes  Good  Tenants. — Many  Proofs. — American  Farm- 
ers.— Hints  for  Englishmen. 

TO  KILLALOE. 

May  24. — We  rose  at  an  early  hour,  and,  as  little  more 
was  to  be  seen,  busied  ourselves  with  writing,  till  the  family 
began  to  stir,  when  we  called  for  our  bill — and  a^  small  one 
it  was  not.  Several  articles  were  inserted  which  we  had 
never  seen.  But  there  was  no  use  in  quarreling  with  the 
handsome  daughter  of  Mr.  O'Grady,  who  managed  the  do- 
mestic and  financial  affairs  of  the  house,  and  answered  to 
all  the  items  at  which  we  demurred,  after  we  had  sent  a 
demurrer,  by  boots,  to  O'Grady  himself.    The  daughter 


HIGH  CHARGES. 


279 


would  not  disturb  his  slumbers  though  the  sun  was  two 
hours  hidi,  but  she  would  assure  us  that  the  bill  was  ex- 
actly  just,  for  she  had  kept  it  herself,  and  it  was  right.  It 
was  of  no  use  to  tell  her  that  she  had  inserted  several  items 
which  must  have  been  ordered  by  some  less  temperate  than 
ourselves.  She,  doubtless,  thought  we  ought  to  have  or- 
dered all  she  had  charged  us,  and  that,  therefore,  it  was 
our  loss,  and  not  hers,  if  we  had  not  had  it.  So  we  "  paid 
up"  with  as  good  grace  as  our  stifled  rage  would  permit, 
but  neither  "■  boots"  nor  "  chambermaid"  received  a  frac- 
tion that  time. 

It  was  it  vain  that  the  former  followed  us  with  his  de- 
mand. We  referred  him  to  his  employer,  who  would,  un- 
doubtedly, make  it  all  right  with  him  out  of  the  enormous 
bill  which  he  had  charged  us.  Poor  fellow  !  he  persisted 
that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  that,  and  should  not  get  a 
cent  above  his  "chances"  for  which  he  had  to  pay  £5  a 
year.  A  hard  chance  this  time,  my  boy  ;  for  we  can  not 
consent  to  be  charged  twice  the  amount  we  should  have 
paid  at  Cruise's,  or  any  other  hotel  in  the  kingdom,  for  no 
better  fare,  and  then  be  dunned  afterwards,  simply  because 
you  happen  to  know  we  are  Americans,  and  hence  suppose, 
as  you  say,  that  we  are  rich.  That  is  a  poor  return  for  the 
little  token  of  kindness  we  showed  you  last  year.  Make  a 
fair  charge,  the  usual  price,  and  we  will  not  complain  ;  but 
our  generosity  we  choose  to  keep  in  our  own  hands,  to  dis- 
pose of  to  our  liking.  Twelve  shillings,  ($3,00,)  for  two 
lodgings,  an  ordinary  breakfast,  dinner,  and  tea,  is  near 
double  what  any  decent  host  in  the  realm  would  charge  a 
noblemen.  And  though  we  are  sovereigns,  we  are  not 
willing,  after  such  an  imposition,  to  make  presents  on  de- 
mand. 

Budgets  in  hand  we  hastened  to  the  canal  landing,  from 
which  we  departed  at  7  o'clock,  in  an  iron  packet  boat, 
some  six  or  seven  feet  wide  and  fifty  long.  There  were 
not  many  passengers  on  board  ;  for,  since  the  opening  of 
the  railroad,  a  short  time  ago,  most  of  the  travel  to  Dublin 


280  THE  CANAL. 

goes  that  way.  There  were,  however,  enough  for  comfort, 
and  a  few  of  the  "better  class."  The  morning  was  beauti- 
ful, and  we  promised  ourselves  a  pleasant  ride  on  lake  Derg 
and  the  Upper  Shannon.  We  secured  our  places  and  paid 
our  fare  through  to  Dublin — fare  moderate,  and  comforts 
few.  No  matter,  we  are  here  to  see  how  our  neighbors  live, 
and  would  have  no  alteration  on  our  account.  I  prefer  to 
see  things  as  they  are,  that  a  more  correct  opinion  may  be 
formed  of  the  actual  condition  of  things. 

Along  the  line  of  the  canal,  for  some  distance,  women 
were  engaged  in  washing  in  it.  For  this  purpose  they 
either  kneeled  close  to  the  edge,  or  else  stood  a  foot  or  two 
in  the  water,  and  there,  washed,  "  battled,"  rinsed,  and 
wrung  their  clothes.  Old  women  and  young  ones  were  en- 
gaged at  this  work  in  great  numbers,  and  presented  to  us 
an  object  of  novelty  wTorthy  of  note. 

Not  far  from  the  city,  the  canal  crosses  the  main  river, 
which  makes  a  curve  towards  the  east,  and  keeps  up  the 
west  side  to  O'Brien's  bridge,  near  which  it  enters  the 
Shannon,  along  the  shore  of  which  boats  are  towed  to  the 
lake  just  above  Killaloe.  The  valley  through  which  the 
canal  and  river  pass,  is  rich  and  beautiful,  and  tolerably 
well  cultivated.  The  shores,  at  a  distance,  are  adorned 
with  handsome  mansions  and  villas,  surrounded  by  pleasant 
grounds  and  rich  meadows.  The  hills  back,  and  the  moun- 
tains in  the  distance,  add  much  to  the  beauty  of  the 
scenery. 

At  a  distance,  on  the  right,  stands  the  ancient  tower  of 
Castle  Connel,  close  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Shannon, 
near  the  Doonas  Falls.  This  is  said  to  be  a  place  of  much 
resort  by  the  people  of  Limerick  on  Sundays  and  holidays. 
During  the  summer  months  many  come  here  to  reside. 
The  principal  attractions  are  the  natural  beauties  of  the 
location,  a  chalybeate  spring,  the  rapids  of  the  Shannon, 
and  purity  of  the  air.  The  only  attraction  it  had  for  us 
was  the  gruff  ruins  of  O'Brien's  castle,  which  stands  up  in 
solemn  defiance  of  time  and  change,  a  monument"  of  the 


SHANNON  RAPIDS. 


281 


strength  and  dignity  of  the  kings  of  Minister.  It  stands 
upon  a  detached  rock,  close  in  the  town,  and  looks  sullenly 
down  upon  the  pigmies  who  now  are  content  to  dwell  in 
mud  cabins,  indolent,  and  oppressed,  wholly  unworthy  the 
great  chiefs  to  whose  clan  their  ancestors  belonged. 

I  here  give  the  description  of  the  rapids,  by  an  English- 
man, that  my  countrymen  may  know  what  passes  for 
"  sublime  grandeur"  in  "  English  eyes." 

"  The  Shannon  is  here,  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  almost  a  cataract  ; 
and  this,  to  an  English  eye,  must  be  particularly  striking.  It  is  only  in  the 
streams  and  rivulets  of  England,  that  rapids  are  found  ;  the  larger  rivers  gen- 
erally, glide  smoothly  on  without  impediment  from  rocks  ;  the  Thames,  Trent, 
Severn,  and  Mersey,  when  they  loose  the  character  of  streams,  and  become 
rivers,  hold  a  noiseless  course  ;  but  the  Shannon,  larger  than  all  four,  here 
pours  that  immense  body  of  water  which  above  the  rapids  is  forty  feet  deep, 
and  three  hundred  yards  wide,  through  and  above  a  congregation  of  huge 
stones  and  rocks,  which  extend  nearly  half  a  mile  ;  and  offers  not  only  an  un- 
usual scene,  but  a  spectacle  approaching  much  nearer  to  the  sublime,  than  any 
moderately  sized  stream  can  offer  even  in  its  highest  cascade.  None  of  the 
Welsh  waterfalls,  nor  the  Giesbach  in  Switzerland,  can  compare,  for  a  mo- 
ment, in  grandeur  and  effect  with  the  rapids  of  the  Shannon." 

The  rapids  are  about  equal  to  the  falls  in  the  Connecti- 
cut at  Enfield,  or  in  the  Ohio  at  Louisville,  in  low  stages 
of  water.  Yet  to  those  unfamiliar  with  large  rivers,  and 
the  noise  of  foaming  cataracts,  this  is  naturally  an  object 
of  much  curiosity.  To  us  it  had  not  half  the  interest  of 
the  old  castle,  because  not  half  the  novelty,  The  Shannon 
falls,  in  the  distance  of  fifteen  miles,  from  Killaloe  to  Lime- 
rick, between  ninety  and  one  hundred  feet,  more  than  half 
of  which  is  in  the  space  between  Castle  Connel  and  Castle 
Troy.  At  O'Brien's  bridge  there  is  a  small  village,  and 
near  the  hill  of  Doonas,  are  the  hamlets  of  Erina  and 
Cloonlard.  There  are  no  other  places  of  consequence  till 
we  approach  Killaloe. 

On  the  east  bank,  is  the  county  of  Tipperary,  one  of 
the  largest  in  Ireland,  and  one  of  the  most  wretched  and 
restless.  From  time  immemorial  this  countv,  bordered  on 
Connaught  and  Leinster,  has  been  the  battle  ground  of 
the  feuds  and  strifes  between  the  opposing  provinces.  In 


282 


HOW   SOME  LIVE. 


this  region  Cromwell  disbanded  his  army  after  having  sub- 
dued the  county,  and  cleared  it  of  the  Catholic  population, 
whom  he  had  driven  into  Connaught,  shipped  to  other  coun- 
tries, or  slain  by  the  sword.  Many  soldiers  settled  in  this 
region,  and  English  grandees  who  supported  his  govern- 
ment were  rewarded  with  liberal  grants  of  the  best  land. 
The  soldiers  mingled  with  the  people,  married  Irish  wives, 
and  produced  the  race  of  large,  well-formed,  and  handsome 
people  who  are  found  in  this  portion  of  the  kingdom.  But 
they  did  not  much  elevate  the  moral  or  temporal  condition 
of  the  inhabitants.  Crushed  by  the  feudal  power,  which  is 
ever  suspicious  of  the  improvement  of  dependents,  they 
have  struggled  in  vain  for  right  and  liberty,  No  part  of 
the  country  has  been  so  ready  for  revolt  as  Tipperary  and 
Limerick,  and  no  parts  have  felt  more  severely  the  blighting 
effects  of  absentee  landlordism.  Nenagh,  Clonmell,  Cashel, 
and  Limerick  are  names  closely  allied  to  the  wrongs  and 
struggles  of  Ireland.  Not  even  Galway,  Mayo,  Sligo,  Clare, 
or  Kent,  haT'e  suffered  so  much,  for  there  the  people  with 
less  information,  and  less  manliness,  have  submitted  to  the 
vilest  impositions  till  no  heart  of  resistance  is  left  them. 

As  long  as  they  can,  they  continue  to  till  the  soil,  and  sell 
all  they  can  produce  to  pay  rent  and  taxes,  except  a  few 
potatoes,  and  when  they  can  do  that  no  longer,  they  live 
on  "dillisk  and  dhoolaman,  or  seaweed,"  which  they  gather 
from  the  rocks.  Potatoes  and  butter-milk  they  esteem 
good  living,  and  call  those  who  are  able  to  have  it,  "thokey," 
that  is,  good  livers.  Many  infuse  pepper  in  water  to  give 
taste  to  their  poor  potatoes,  and  eat  nothing  else  for  months. 
When  they  can  get  none  of  these  they  lay  down  and  die. 

The  people  of  Tipperary  and  Limerick  are  not  willing 
to  submit  to  such  cruelty ;  they  will  not  starve  without  a 
struggle.  They  cling  to  life  with  greater  tenacity,  and 
every  now  and  then,  feel  twinges  of  conscience,  and  start 
up  with  fitful  glimmerings  of  hope,  and  make  a  futile  at- 
tempt to  subvert  the  causes  of  their  misery.  But  all  is 
vain  ;  and  they  sink  back  into  a  gloomy  and  sullen  despair 


OUTRAGES   AND  INTIMIDATIONS. 


283 


and,  in  the  bitterness  of  their  souls  seek  vengeance  on  the 
minions  of  that  power  which  oppresses  them. 

OUTRAGES  AND  INTIMIDATIONS  THEIR  CAUSES  AND  CURE. 

In  conversation  with  some  men,  this  morning,  I  learned 
many  things  about  the  outrages  and  intimidations  which  so 
frequently  occur  in  this  part  of  the  country.  They  gene- 
rally originate  in  a  struggle  for  land,  on  which  alone  they 
depend  for  a  subsistence,  and  from  which  they  are  evicted 
by  the  unfeeling  landlords  and  their  heartless  agents.*  The 

*  "  The  county  of  Tipperary  has  long  possessed  the  notoriety  of  being 
the  focus  of  outrage  and  disorder. .  .  .  From  all  I  hear,  the  owner  of  an  es- 
tate, in  former  days,  kept  open  house,  lived  usually  in  a  style  beyond  his 
income,  aped  the  expenditure  of  men  of  superior  fortune,  shot,  hunted,  and 
got  money  as  he  could,  to  keep  going  on.  Most  of  the  estates  are  entailed  ; 
the  owners  married,  and  every  means  were  resorted  to,  to  raise  money.  Some 
times  long  leases  were  granted  to  men  of  property,  in  order  to  obtain  funds? 
who  commenced  letting  out  land  at  an  increased  rent,  to  middle-men.  The 
sons  of  the  land-owner  grew  up,  hunted  and  shot  with  the  father,  and  would 
have  shot  any  one  who  suggested  to  them  that  they  ought  to  do  some  thing 
to  maintain  themselves.  The  sole  means  of  providing  for  them,  was  to  let 
to  them  portions  of  the  estate,  which,  being  usually  entailed,  could  only 
be  done  at  the  least  improved  rent.  The  younger  sons  then  got  a  local 
standing,  became  '  Squireens,'  started  shooting  and  hunting  lodges,  sub-let 
the  land,  which  they  never  thought  of  farming  themselves,  at  an  increased 
rent  ;  and,  so  long  as  their  father  lived,  were  principally  at  home.  On  the 
death  of  the  father,  the  elder  brother  came  into  the  estate,  and  the  knives 
and  forks  of  the  younger  brothers  were  no  longer  regularly  set  for  them. 
The  stables  were  not  always  ready  for  their  horses  as  long  as  they  pleased, 
and  they  found  out  that  they  had  to  support  themselves.  To  do  this,  an 
other  screw  was  put  upon  the  sub-tenants,  and  all  sorts  of  chicanery  were 
resorted  to  by  these  needy  men,  to  obtain  money  from  those  under  them. 
As  they  could  barely  live,  the  usual  course  was  to  try  and  get  some  govern- 
ment-place, as  they  could  turn  to  neither  business  nor  profession.  To  obtain 
this  the  member  of  Parliament  for  the  county  was  followed  and  besieged,  and  they 
began  to  find  out  that  their  tenants  could  be  made  40s.  freeholders,  and  that  this 
was  an  available  means  of  influence.  The  unfortunate  under-tenants  were 
then  compelled  to  subdivide  their  land  with  sons,  to  make  voters,  in  order 
that,  at  the  next  election,  these  votes  might  be  bargained  for  a  place.  The 
mischief  did  not  cease  here.  This  forced  subdivison  rapidly  increased  the 
population.  As  there  was  nothing  but  the  land  to  live  by,  the  increased 
papulation  brought  competition  for  land,  and  eagerness  to  get  any  patch, 


284 


OPPRESSION   AND  NEGLECT. 


people  themselves  are  wofully  ignorant  of  the  arts  of  hus- 
bandry, as  well  as  indolent  in  their  habits,  and  no  induce- 
ment is  set  before  them  to  correct  either.  Land-owners, 
agents,  and  middle-men  are  alike  the  enemies  of  the  com- 
mon people,  extracting  the  last  penny,  pound  of  butter,  and 
hamper  of  potatoes  for  rents,  taxes,  and  tithes,  to  sustain, 
in  idleness,  the  very  men  who  cause  their  misery.  Is  it 
any  cause  of  wonder,  that  hatred  and  malice  should  be  en- 
gendered, under  such  circumstances ;  or  that  passion, 
stirred  to  the  last  pitch  of  desperation,  should  seek  ven- 
geance, and  count  it  sweet  ?  It  would  require  a  degree  of 
forbearance  not  common  in  an  ignorant,  neglected,  and 

however  small,  at  increased  rents.  The  people,  following  the  teaching, 
began  themselves  to  subdivide  ;  and  the  '  Squireens'  or  needy  middle-men 
raised  their  rents  proportionately  to  the  increased  competition  for  the  land, 
which  they  themselves  had  brought  about.  But  the  increase  in  population 
went  on  ;  the  absence  of  any  trading  or  professional  knowledge  among  these 
small  gentry,  too  proud  to  do  or  learn  any  thing,  but  not  too  proud  to  resort 
to  any  tricky  jobbing  to  raise  money  or  get  a  place,  brought  with  it,  of  course, 
the  absence  of  any  enterprizc  or  any  business  undertaking,  which  could  afford 
other  employment  for  THE  PEOPLE  than  the  cultivation  of  a  patch  of  land. 
The  people  thus  got  beaten  down,  and  became  serfs,  crushed  down  to  the 
worst  food,  and  the  most  miserable  clothing  and  dwellings  ;  and,  being  neg- 
lected and  without  knowledge,  they  were  utterly  unable  to  improve  them- 
selves. ...  In  England,  you  some  times  heard  of  landlords  compelling  their 
tenants  to  vote  for  them  ;  but  in  Ireland,  the  tenants'  votes  were  a  valuable 
commodity,  not  to  be  given  away.  They  were  bargained  for  places,  and  I 
am  assured  of  instances  where  they  have  been  sold  for  money,  which  the 
landlord  himself  pocketed.  The  poor  tenants  were  deprived  of  even  that  re- 
source of  the  vilest  in  England — they  could  not  even  sell  their  political  fran- 
chise for  a  bribe,  for  their  landlords  generally  sold  it  for  them,  and  pocketed 
the  amount  without  consulting  them,  and  compelled  them  to  vote  as  he  liked. 
Is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  such  a  system  should  bear  such  fruits  ?  The 

fruits  are  now  being  reaped  Estates  get  into  the  courts,  and  receivers 

are  appointed,  who  exact  the  highest  competition  rents  ;  embarrassed  land- 
lords live  abroad,  or  in  English  towns,  and  they  also  exact  the  highest  rents 
they  can.  The  best  tenants,  who  will  live  in  comfort,  are  compelled  to  emi- 
grate, and  the  most  ignorant  and  unenterprizing  tenants  remain,  without  know- 
ledge or  means  to  improve  the  land,  and  striving,  by  endurance  and  potato 
diet,  to  squeeze  on'-  the  rent.  They  have  no  means  of  employment  ;  land 
they  must  have,  to  live,  until  the  struggle  for  a  patch  of  land  has  become  so 
desperate,  that  it  is  retained  by  a  system  of  terror  and  assassination  disgrace 
ful  to  any  country." — Foster's  Letters,  p.  331—1. 


THE   CAUSE   OF  OUTRAGES. 


285 


abused  people  like  these,  to  keep  cool  under  such  cruel 
grievances.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  than  it  is  ?  If 
landlords  will  oppress  and  abuse  their  tenants,  keep  them 
ignorant  and  starved,  reduce  them  to  brutes  what  can  they 
expect  but  brutal  returns  ? 

The  gentleman  with  whom  I  conversed  gave  it  as  his  opin- 
ion that  '£  bad  farming"  is  more  the  cause  of  poverty  and  mis- 
ery, in  this  country  than  "  high  rents  and  taxes  ;"  that  if  the 
people  could  be  taught  to  improve  their  lands,  they  could  pay 
all  demands,  and  live  comfortably.  There  is,  doubtless,  truth 
in  his  remark.  But  how  can  these  poor  creatures  begin  to 
improve  ?  Are  the  proper  men,  the  land-owners,  here  to  in- 
struct and  help  them  ?*  Are  they  encouraged  to  make 
improvements  ?  No  such  thing  ;  but  they  have  every  rea- 
son to  know  that  if  they  make  lands  more  productive,  they 
shall  be  made  to  pay  a  correspondingly  higher  rent,  and 
perhaps  be  evicted  to  give  place  to  some  other. 

Here,  then,  it  is  manifest  that  the  fault,  seen  upon  the 
surface,  is  mutual.  But  the  real  evil  lies  deeper  than  ap- 
pears. It  is,  in  my  humble  opinion,  in  the  want  of  a  per- 
manent right  to  the  soil.  I  have  seen  and  heard  enough 
of  "  Anti-rentism,"  in  my  own  country,  to  deprecate  all 
land  aristocracies,  and  the  whole  system  of  feudal  ten- 
antry, which  has  come  down  from  the  medieval  ages  of  po- 
litical, religious,  and  social  darkness  and  depravity.  What 
right,  under  God,  has  one  man  to  nineteen,  fifty,  or  a  hun- 
dred thousand  acres  of  that  earth  which  "  is  His,  and  the 
fulness  thereof,"  and  which  is  given  to  His  children,  as 
freely  as  air  or  water  ?  These  lords,  and  earls,  and  dukes 
did  not  buy  it.  The  king  gave  it  to  them  of  his  own 
"  mere  motion"  and  loving  favor.  But  how  came  he — one 
man  ;  at  times  a  very  mean  one — by  such  an  inheritance  ? 
Who  gave  it  to  him  ?    Where  is  his  deed  ?    In  the  records 

*  The  English  Commissioners  ask,  "  Do  the  land-owners  take  no  steps  to 
introduce  a  better  system,  such  as  having  a  model  farm  r*  Mr.  Nicholas 
Maher,  who  manages  an  estate  of  19,000  acres,  answers,  "  No;  there  is  no 
such  thing  in  the  country f 


28G 


THE   TENURE   OF  LAND. 


of  history,  written  in  human  blood,  and  sealed  with  the 
stamp  of  a  -million  deaths.  It  is  his  by  "divine  right." 
But  I  should  like  to  see  the  "  patent"  under  which  he 
claims  such  boundless  territory,  which  he  parcels  out  to 
his  courtiers  so  lavishly  !  He  shows  it  in  his  armies,  and 
defends  it — not  before  the  chancery  of  heaven,  but  on  the 
battle-field !  Cromwell's  right  to  cut,  and  carve,  and  give 
away,  was  as  good  as  Henry's,  or  John's,  or  Elizabeth's, 
for  by  might  he  won  it  for  himself.  From  him  and  them 
these  landlords  claim,  and  such  is  England's  law,  and  her 
judges  and  armies  are  ready  to  enforce  it !  This  may  be 
all  right,  on  the  principle  of  eternal  justice,  but  I  confess  I 
can  not  see  it  so.    I  have  not  so  read  Christianity. 

It  seems  to  me  the  assassinations,  murders,  and  intimida- 
tions, of  which  I  see  so  many  accounts  in  the  secular  pa- 
pers, are  the  natural  fruit  of  such  a  tree  as  kings  have 
planted — sparsely  yielded,  when  compared  with  the  whole- 
sale slaughters  of  Sitric,  Strongbow,  Ludlow,  Carew, 
and  other  minions  of  brute  force,  who  have  led  hireling 
foreign  soldiery  to  invade  the  rights,  destroy  the  peace, 
slay  the  innocent,  fasten  fetters  upon  the  limbs  of  the  hon- 
est and  industrious  thousands,  and  sequester  their  rightful 
properties  to  interlopers,  who  have  rarely  graced  their  pos- 
sessions with  their  presence !  These  lands  have  been  so 
secured  that,  however  deeply  encumbered,  they  can  not  be 
alienated,  even  at  the  demand  of  an  honest  creditor. 

Thus  the  people,  disinherited  of  their  rightful  possessions, 
their  only  source  of  subsistence,  have  been  admitted  back 
on  short  leases,  or,  more  commonly,  as  tenants-at-will, 
so  that,  at  any  moment,  when  it  shall  please  the  whim  of 
an  old,  gouty,  capricious  landlord,  misinformed  by  his  in- 
triguing agents,  or  cheated  by  a  set  of  rapacious  middle- 
men, they  can  be  ejected  from  their  homes,  the  houses 
which  they,  or  their  fathers,  or  their  ancestors,  built  with 
their  own  hands,  pulled  down  over  their  heads ;  and  their 
wives  and  little  ones  turned  out  pennyless,  and,  perhaps,  at 
an  inclement  season,  to  beg  or  starve!    Work  there  is 


THE   MAIN  DIFFICULTY. 


287 


none,  nor  any  land  for  them  ;  for  the  competition  encour- 
aged by  heartless  agents,  is  so  great  that  rents  are  run  up 
to  such  an  enormous  rate  that  the  produce  would  not  pay 
them,  to  say  nothing  about  taxes  or  a  living.  In  this  con- 
dition, revenge  is  awakened,  and,  goaded  on  by  the  cries 
of  starving  families,  with  no  chance  of  employment,  and 
the  work-house  full ;  who  that  knows  the  weakness  of  hu- 
man nature,  unassisted  by  enlightened  principle,  wrapt 
in  ignorance,  controlled  by  passion,  trembling  with  mad- 
ness, desperate  with  hunger,  and  despairing  for  a  better  time 
coming,  will  wonder  at  the  outrages  that  follow — the  minia- 
ture of  that  war  which  was  prosecuted  with  such  deadly 
and  disastrous  results,  in  the  names  of  Kings  and  Protect- 
ors, against  their  forefathers  ?  Are  not  such  effects  the 
natural  results  of  such  causes  ?# 

*  "  While  they  waste  one  half  the  subsistence  they  might  get  out  of  the 
land,  the  most  frightful  struggles  for  subsistence  are  going  on;  and  atrocities 
and  cowardly  assassinations  are  committed  which  are  a  disgrace  to  any  coun- 
try. The  Bravo  of  Italy  is  more  than  equalled  by  the  cowardly  ruffian  of 
Tipperary." — Foster's  Letters. 

This  will  do  very  well  for  an  English  partisan  writer.  It  is  wickedness  for 
this  people,  or  any  other,  to  act  on  the  principle  of  revenge.  "Better  for  them 
to  lay  down  in  the  bog  and  die  innocently,  than  to  add  murder  to  other  sins, 
by  slaying  the  man  who  starves  them,  and  without  cursing  the  government 
which  oppresses  them.  But  such  is  not  human  nature,  as  every  Englishman 
and  the  British  government  know,  very  well.  I  will  quote  some  examples, 
that  my  readers  may  know  the  provocations  which  have  made  this  people  so 
"  atrocious." 

■  "  Lord  Howarden  has  ejected  many  tenants  for  various  causes,  and  taken 
their  land  into  his  own  possession.  This  has  produced  great  misery  among 
them,  and  intense  hatred.  The  life  of  Mr.  Stewart,  his  agent,  has  been  repeat- 
edly attempted  in  consequence.  He  has,  as  a  means  of  protection,  been  '  in  the 
habit  of  taking  two  boys,  one  before  and  one  behind  him,  on  the  horse,  when 
he  would  be  riding  through  the  country  ;  so  that  he  could  not  be  killed  with- 
out one  of  the  boys  being  shot.'  [An  evidence  that  justice  is  not  all  extin- 
guished by  vengeance.]  The  horrid  distress  of  the  people  drives  them  to  com- 
mit these  atrocities." 

"  Amongst  poor  creatures  so  reduced,  the  competition  for  a  patch  of  con- 
acre land  to  live  upon  is  *  dreadful,'  says  Mr.  Bradshaw,  a  landed  proprietor 
near  Tipperary. 

"  It  is  wretched  to  see  the  state  of  some  of  the  poor  for  want  of  employ- 
ment.   I  may  say,  and  do  say  it  fearlessly,  they  are  little  better  than  the  brute 


288 


REMEDIES  PROPOSED. 


As  far  as  I  could  learn,  the  cause  of  the  outrages  so  often 
occurring,  are,  in  most  cases,  traceable  to  the  cruelty  of 
landowners,  and  hence  to  the  government.  The  simple 
explanation  of  the  whole  matter  is,  the  people  are  oppressed 
and  starved.  In  such  a  condition,  what  but  hostility  can 
be  expected  of  them  ?  And  who  is  at  fault  but  they  who 
have  produced  it,  or,  having  the  remedies,  refuse  to  apply 
them  ? 

The  remedies  proposed  to  cure  these  evils  are  totally  in- 
adequate, because  they  do  not  reach  the  cause.  One  sug- 
gests that  the  government  should  find  work  for  the  people ; 

beasts,  for  want  of  employment.  They  sometimes  get  employed  at  a  6d.  or 
8d.  a  day,  and  their  whole  object  is,  by  means  of  their  dung-pit,  to  get  a 
quarter  of  an  acre  of  ground  ;  and  they  get  their  living  through  the  year  from 
it."  ..."  They  have  miserable  huts,"  says  Mr.  Jordan,  land-agent  to  Baron 
Pennefather,  "  and  it  is  only  wonderful  how  they  have  patience  to  live  as  they 
do,  at  all.  There  were  a  few  shots  fired  into  my  own  house  very  lately,  but 
there  was  nobody  shot ;  we  do  not  mind  these  little  trifles  !" 

"  Agricultural  laborers,"  says  Mr.  J.  Loughmane,  near  Cashel,  "  are  the 
most  miserable  men  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  at  the  present  day.  I  could 
not  describe  the  situation  of  the  creatures.  They  have  neither  food  nor  rai- 
ment ;  they  have  no  bed-clothes  ;  the  clothes  they  wear  in  the  day,  they  must 
clothe  themselves  with  at  night." 

w  They  are  half  a  year  idle  for  want  of  employment,  and  their  wives  are 
generally  out  as  paupers  in  the  country,"  says  Mr.  O'Plynn,  farmer,  of  New 
Birmingham.  "  Their  huts  are  miserable.  There  are  seven,  or  eight,  or  nine  of 
them  upon  one  heap  of  straw,  and  generally  the  clothing  they  have  in  the  day 
is  their  night-covering.  There  is  no  sheet,  or  blanket,  and  those  who  are  last 
in  bed  must  get  up,  for  they  have  no  clothes  to  keep  them  warm.  I  have 
witnessed  that." 

"  Is  not  this  sad  story  enough  to  account  for  the  state  in  which  society  is  here  ? 
The  people  for  the  most  part  here  are  a  fine  race.  The  majority  of  them  are 
stout,  and  of  an  average  size,  and  you  see  among  them  many  tall  and  power- 
ful men.  They  are  a  mixed  race,  very  many  of  them  descended  from 
Cromwell's  soldiers,  who  were  disbanded  in  this  county,  the  original  deben- 
tures and  grants  of  land  to  whom  are  still  extant.  .  .  Near  Nenagh,  according 
to  the  evidence  of  Mr.  M'Cartin,  in  the  midst  of  all  this  distress,  and  misery, 
and  shootings  about  the  possession  of  land,  there  is  'an  immense  tract  of 
waste  land — the  finest  mountain  land  in  the  world — from  15,000  to  20,000 
acres  of  wild  land.'  And  according  to  the  report  of  Mr.  Griffiths,  '  it  is  pro- 
bable that  about  300,000  acres  of  waste  land  might  be  reclaimed  for  cultiva- 
tion, and  60,000  acres  might  be  drained  for  pasture,'  in  this  very  county." — 
Foster's  Letters,  p  331-3. 


INADEQUATE   TO   THE  DIFFICULTY. 


289 


another  that  farm  schools  should  be  established ;  another  that 
monasteries  should  be  restored ;  another  that  the  Catholic 
priests  should  be  paid  ;  another  that  waste  lands  should  be 
improved  ;  another  that  these  outrages  should  be  suppressed 
bv  a  stronger  police  force  ;  another  that  a  more  extensive 
emigration  to  Australia  should  be  carried  on  by  the  aid  of 
government ;  another  that  long  leases,  or  tenant  rights, 
should  be  given,  and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.  Now 
all  these,  or  any  of  them  may  or  may  not  afford  a  temporary 
relief.  It  is  certain  none  of  them  contemplate  the  real,  per- 
manent prosperity  of  the  masses  of  the  people,  in  a  way  to 
attach  them  to  the  country.  They  do  not  reach  the  diffi- 
culty, in  away  to  remove  the  cause.  They  are  not  radi- 
cal, nor  specific. 

The  people  are,  in  all  cases,  spoken  of  and  treated  by  the 
rulers,  civil  and  social,  as  vassals,  as  inferior,  and  dependent 
upon  the  will  and  caprice  of  the  land-owners.  Those  who 
would  improve  the  tenure  to  the  land  propose  no  more  than 
a  lease  of  ten  or  twenty  years.  And  most  on  the  side  of 
power  rely  mainly  on  the  government  lash  to  whip  the  peo- 
ple into  peace  and  prosperity.  The  days  have  gone  by 
when  absolute  power  over  personal  liberty  is  vested  in 
governments.  Christian  liberty  is  too  well  understood  by 
most  enlightened  nations  to  consent  to  forcible  measures. 
Men  must  be  drawn  by  motives  and  convictions  which  do 
not  impinge  upon  individual  freedom ;  the  masses  are  com- 
ing to  have  some  indistinct  notions  of  natural  rights,  and 
social  privileges,  and  justice  and  equality  between  man  and 
man.  They  have  heard  the  scripture,  which  saith,  "  He  has 
made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men,"  and  that  all  men 
have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God ;  that  God 
loved  the  humblest  child  of  earth,  and  sent  his  Son  to  preach 
the  "  gospel  to  the  poor,"  to  deliver  the  captives,  and  defend 
the  outcasts.  And  they  have  some  faith  in  God,  as  the 
Ruler  of  kings,  and  Protector  of  men,  and  they  are  not  dis- 
posed to  submit  to  be  wronged  and  starved,  while  others 
revel  on  the  sweat,  and  blood,  and  smews  of  their  fellow- 

25 


290 


THE   REMOVAL   OF  DISABILITIES. 


men.  It  is  a  pity  they  do  not  understand  more  fully  the 
true  spirit  and  power  of  Christianity,  for  then  they  would 
be  able  to  work  out  their  salvation  more  certainly.  But  it 
is  vain  to  talk  of  this  to  starving  men.  They  have  ears, 
but  they  can  not  hear,  and  eyes  but  they  can  not  see,  further 
than  to  seek  vengeance  on  those  who  torture  them. 

Let  the  government  adopt  the  strongest  measures,  but  let 
the  scales  be  even.  Let  them  go  to  the  root  of  the  matter; 
and  first  settle  the  rights  of  certain  men,  made  of  the  same 
materials  and  subject  to  the  laws  of  the  same  divine  govern- 
ment, whose  wisdom  and  justice  is  impartial.  Let  it  deter- 
mine, if  it  can,  why  one  man  is  put  in  possession  of  one 
hundred  thousand  acres  of  land,  while  another  has  not  a 
foot !  That  done,  let  it  show  why  these  lands  are  held  in 
perpetual  entailment,  in  defiance  of  the  just  claims  of  law- 
ful heirs  and  creditors.  When  that  is  done  in  a  satisfactory 
manner,  we  will  ascend  to  the  branches,  and  work  as 
busily  as  any  other  in  cutting  out  suckers,  lopping  off  dead 
limbs,  and  "  ejecting"  needless  branches.  I  would  respect- 
fully refer  her  majesty's  government,  and  all  friends  of  Ire- 
land, to  the  authority  of  the  holy  statute,  especially  to  the 
commentary  of  St.  Paul,  found  in  1st  Cor.  12th  chapter,  for 
information  on  this  subject. 

We  have,  in  part,  illustrated  this  subject,  practically,  in 
our  country,  and  the  institutions  of  our  government  rest 
upon  a  firm  basis,  because  every  body  has  an  interest  in  the 
government.  Our  greatest  danger  lies  in  our  landless  popu- 
lation, in  slaves,  and  foreigners,  who  are  made  citizens  on 
too  easy  terms,  while  yet  strangers  or  alien  to  the  principles 
of  our  government.  We  have  not,  however,  tried  what 
must  be  done  in  Ireland — the  breaking  up  of  feudal  tenures, 
in  order  to  remove  wrongs  and  secure  rights  to  the  people. 
We  have  estates,  the  owners  of  which  are  already  tyranni- 
cal, and  would  be  more  so  but  for  the  power  of  public  opin- 
ion, which  is  little  else  than  the  concretion  of  what  leads  to 
"  intimidation"  in  this  country.  In  our  republic,  law  is  but 
the  expression  of  public  sentiment.    Here,  it  is  the  will  of 


Til  E   RADICAL  CURE. 


291 


the  few,  and  those  few  not  the  common  people,  but  a  race 
or  grade,  which  claims,  not.  justice,  nor  merit,  but  heredi- 
tary and  exclusive  right,  as  the  basis  of  all  legislative  and 
executive  power. 

Now  let  these  false  claims  be  abolished  ;  let  the  estates 
so  long  abused  by  the  favorites  of  the  crown,  be  sold  to  pay 
the  debts  of  a  profligate  nobility  and  gentry ;  let  them  be 
bought  by  the  government  with  the  money  now  squandered 
on  monster  armies  of  soldiers  and  policemen,  needful  to 
keep  the  people  in  subjection,  and  be  leased  to  the  inhabitants 
under  certain  restrictions,  or  sold  on  easy  conditions ;  then 
let  model  farms  and  practical  schools  be  established,  which 
shall  he  free,  and  I  will  venture,  with  such  advantages,  and 
all  their  disabilities  removed,  there  would  be  no  longer 
any  cause  to  complain  of  Irish  outrages,  and  Irish  igno- 
rance, and  Irish  recklessness,  and  Irish  indolence,  and  Irish 
bigotry,  and  Irish  improvidence,  and  Irish  turbulence,  and 
Irish  hatred  of  good  government,  and  Irish  ingratitude,  and 
so  on  to  the  end  of  the  long  list  of  English  complaints  and 
accusations  so  constantly  reiterated. 

I  can  not  see  why  there  is  not  as  much  propriety  in  such 
a  course  as  there  was  in  the  boasted  emancipation  of  West 
Indian  slaves,  by  purchase  and  apprenticeship.  Irishmen  are 
of  as  much  value  to  themselves,  and  to  the  world,  and  their 
life  and  liberty  are  as  dear  to  them  as  they  are  to  Africans. 
Wherefore,  then,  are  they  suffered  to  be  ground  to  the  earth 
with  rents  and  county-cess,  and  poor-rates,  and  tithes,  till  they 
can  live  no  longer,  and  then  be  ejected  from  their  miserable 
mud  hovels,  and  left  without  food  or  shelter,  to  beg  of  other 
beings  as  wretched  as  themselves  ?  It  is  easy  to  complain 
of  such  a  population,  but  all  severity  will  be  vain,  till  some 
steps  are  taken  to  awaken  their  ambition,  and  rouse  their 
dormant  energies,  with  a  prospect  of  comfort  and  permanent 
prosperity  before  them.  They  will  then  toil  and  suffer  as 
well  as  any  people  under  heaven. 

The  English  are  forever  complaining  of  the  laziness  of 
the  Irish.    We  never  hear  that  complaint  in  our  country. 


want  or  im)i:ci;mkxt 


With  all  the  other  sins  laid  to  their  charge — it  is  a  rare 
thing  to  hear  an  Irish  man  or  woman  called  lazy.  They 
dig  our  canals,  grade  our  railways,  carry  our  hods,  wash 
our  clothes,  cook  our  food,  nurse  our  children,  and  do  half 
the  service  of  our  country,  out-doors  and  in,  and  no  one 
hears  of  their  laziness.  They  may  be  called  ignorant, 
bigoted,  dirty,  clannish,  quarrelsome,  drunken,  improvident, 
all  sorts  of  hard  names,  but  never  lazy.  Nor  would  they 
be  so  at  home,  if  there  was  any  proper  motive,  any  induce- 
ment for  them  to  work.  They  harvest  the  crops  of  England, 
and  do  much  domestic  service,  and  no  body  complains  so  far 
as  they  know,  that  they  do  not  work  as  well  as  the  Eng- 
lish. It  is  only  at  home  that  they  are  called  lazy.  And 
there  they  do  not  work  as  faithfully  as  they  might.  But 
how  can  they  ?  They  have  been  so  often  cheated,  so  long 
oppressed — robbed  of  their  crops  for  rents,  and  taxes,  and 
tithes,  that  they  have  lost  all  confidence  in  land-owners, 
their  agents,  and  middle-men,  and  can  have  no  heart  to  im- 
prove the  land  which  they  do  not  own,  and  can  not  lease, 
except  from  year  to  year.  Who  does  not  know,  that  even 
among  the  most  enterprising  farmers  of  America,  there  is 
no  surer  way  to  "  run  out  a  farm" — render  it  unproductive, 
than  to  rent  it  year  after  year.  And  this  impoverishment 
of  the  soil  is  rendered  more  certain  if  it  is  sub-let  in  small 
tracts  to  different  persons.  Each  wants  to  make  what  he 
can  of  it,  and  at  as  little  outlay  as  possible. 

Such  is  the  way  of  the  world  ;  and  why  should  it  be 
thought  a  mark  of  unheard  of  stupidity  and  indolence, 
when  Irish  peasants  are  found  in  it  ?  Who  blames  them 
for  refusing  to  lay  out  their  strength  upon  lands  to  which 
they  can  have  no  claim  ?  Why  should  they  drain  bogs, 
and  recover  impoverished  and  waste  lands,  which  can 
yield  them  no  reward  under  two  or  three  years  ?  It  may 
be  said,  the  landlord,  finding  them  good  tenants,  would,  of 
course,  retain  them.  Perhaps  he  would — perhaps  he 
would'nt !  In  our  country,  not  even  the  squatters  on  our 
new  territories  would  subdue  a  patch  of  ground,  if  they 


TO   LIVE   AND  IMPROVE. 


293 


did  not  know  they  should  either  purchase  it  by  pre-emption 
right,  or  sell  their  "  betterments"  to  some  other  man.  Irish 
land-owners  and  their  agents  have  become  too  cunning  to 
give  long  leases  to  their  tenants,  for  this  very  reason :  that  they 
would  sell  out  their  rights  when  a  good  offer  was  presented. 
They  prefer  to  have  their  lands  every  year  in  the  market, 
subject  to  the  competition  of  a  starved  population,  who 
have  no  other  mode  of  subsistence.  Forced  by  necessity, 
they  will  run  up  the  rent  to  the  highest  pitch,  hoping,  by 
hard  labor,  a  cheap  diet,  and  kind  Providence,  to  be  able 
to  pay  it,  with  the  other  taxes,  and  have  enough  to  keep 
their  families  alive. 

In  this  precarious  way  the  people  have  been  living  for 
years,  and  when  the  potato  rot  destroyed  the  crops,  and 
"  free  trade"  reduced  the  price  of  grain,  they  had  no  more 
than  enough  to  pay  rents  and  taxes,  and  so  were  left  to 
starve.  As  many  as  can,  flee  to  America ;  but  multitudes 
have  no  means  to  get  there,  for  they  have  no  "  lease" 
nor  "  tenant-right"  to  sell,  nor  credit  to  hire  lands ;  of 
course  they  can  be  ejected  at  the  pleasure  of  the  landlord, 
who  has  no  motive,  as  in  cases  before  noticed,  to  help  ship 
them  out  of  the  countrv.  He  will  not  be  at  such  needless 
expense,  and  so  calls  in  the  bailiff,  with  a  posse  of  constables 
and  policemen,  and  the  work  of  eviction  and  destruction 
commences.  The  family  is  dragged  or  driven  from  the 
hut,  the  little  amount  of  miserable  furniture  thrown  into 
the  street,  and  the  building  levelled  to  the  ground.  Some 
times  the  thatched  roofs  are  set  on  fire,  and  the  naked 
walls  left,  as  we  saw  whole  streets  of  them  at  Kinsale,  on 
the  day  of  our  landing.  The  work  is  carried  on  till  a 
whole  village  is  depopulated,  fifty  or  a  hundred  houses  torn 
down,  and  four  or  five  hundred  persons  turned  into  the 
world,  without  house,  or  home,  or  food,  or  friend.* 

*  "It  was  a  piteous  spectacle,  on  Thursday,  in  the  midst  of  the  pouring 
rain,  to  see  children  led  by  their  parents  out  from  their  houses  into  the  street, 
to  see  mothers  kneel  down  on  the  wet  ground,  and,  holding  their  children 
up  to  heaven,  beg  relief  from  the  Almighty,  and  strength  to  endure  their 

25* 


294 


OUTRAGES,  THE   NATURAE  RESUET. 


Now,  I  put  it  to  any  one,  wrong  as  it  may  be,  whether 
it  is  very  strange  that  disorder  and  outrages  should  pre- 

afflictions.  The  cries  of  bereaved  men  and  women,  running  half  frantic 
through  the  streets,  or  cowering  from  the  rain  and  wind  under  the  shelter  of 
their  poor  furniture,  piled  confusedly  about,  were  affecting  in  the  extreme. 
To  see,  amid  all  this  misery,  ten  or  twelve  burly  ruffians  from  Nenagh,  assail- 
ing the  houses  with  crow-bars,  and  to  hear  their  cries  of  exultation  as  a  wall 
yielded  to  their  assaults,  or  a  roof  tumbled  down  with  a  crash,  the  spectator 

should  be  callous,  that  could  avoid  being  greatly  affected  by  the  scene  

I  should  suppose  that  the  entire  number  turned  out  of  their  houses  on  Thurs- 
day would  reach  one  hundred  and  fifty  families,  or  six  hundred  individuals. 
Of  this  number  I  could  learn  that  about  thirty  families,  or,  on  an  average  of 
four  to  each  family,  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  persons  were  to  be  allowed 
other  dwellings  in  the  village.  So  that  four  hundred  and  eighty  persons,  or 
one  hundred  and  twenty  families,  would  thus  appear  to  be  thrown  on  the 
•  waves  of  the  world,'  as  some  of  the  unfortunate  people  themselves  stated  it. 
I  won't  attempt  to  describe  what  was  indescribable — the  soul-harrowing  con- 
dition of  the  poor  wretches  in  the  wigwams,  at  the  time  I  was  leaving  Too- 
mevara,  eight  o'clock,  in  the  evening." — Tipperary  Vindicator. 

"  The  practice  of  depopulating  whole  neighborhoods,  in  emulation  of  the 
example  so  lately  set  by  the  Hon.  and  Rev.  Massy  Dawson,  has  been  again 
resorted  to,  this  week,  by  the  Hon.  Col.  Sewell,  according  to  whose  ukase, 
his  agent,  Mr.  John  Kelly,  of  Woodmount,  levelled  fifty-six  houses  at 
Creggs,  near  Ballygar,  in  this  county.  Fifty-six  families  turned  out,  roofless 
and  foodless,  to  perish  by  the  way-side,  without  a  single  penny  from  the  Hon. 
Colonel  to  provide  even  a  single  meal  on  their  melancholy  exodus." 

"  The  work  of  extermination  is  proceeding,  with  all  its  concomitant  hor- 
rors, throughout  this  unfortunate  country,  I  have  just  heard  that  two  hundred 
persons  have  been  cast  out  from  the  Dawson  property,  in  the  Glen  of  Aher- 
low,  and  a  very  large  number  cleared  out  from  no  less  than  seven  properties 
in  the  neighborhood  of  Slievenamon." 

The  Archbishop  of  Tuam  says  :  "  On  the  morning  of  last  Saturday,  on 
setting  out  from  Headsford,  the  corpse  of  a  young  man,  who  died  of  hunger 
on  the  preceding  night,  was  seen  stretched  on  the  road-side.  I  saw  the  scenes 
of  eviction  and  desolation,  as  I  traversed  the  parish  to  the  shores  of  Lough 
Corrib.  I  could  not  believe  that  any  one  parish  could  exhibit  so  many  monu- 
ments of  heartless  cruelty.  It  is  no  wonder  if  death,  in  every  form  of  disease 
and  starvation,  followed  in  the  train  of  this  depopulating  system.  The  mis- 
ery, however,  was  deepening  as  we  advanced,  and  the  wretchedness  of  the 
poor  of  this  remote  and  much-neglected  region  is  such  that  I  will  not  occupy 
the  time,  nor  harrow  the  feelings  of  the  reader  by  its  description." 

"  In  the  Kilrush  Union,  county  of  Clare,  several  of  the  evicted  tenantry 
are  living  in  turf-pits,  scooped  out  of  the  bogs,  and  covered  in  at  the  top  with 
some  branches  of  trees.  From  these  cavities  the  smoke,  at  times,  is  seen  as- 
cending, and  the  passer-by  would  hardly  have  known  that  the  bog  was  inhab- 


OF   NEGLECT   AND  ABUSE. 


295 


prevail  among  a  people  so  circumstanced  ?  It  certainly  is 
no  new  thing  under  the  sun,  which  should  be  seized  upon 
in  justification  of  the  stringent  measures  invoked  from  the 
government,  to  slaughter  this  people  indiscriminately.  I 
can  very  well  understand  why  these  miserable  beings  in- 
timidate and  kill  the  men  who  are  the  apparent  cause  of 
their  sufferings.  It  is  wrong,  as  I  have  before  said,  but  it 
is  not  strange,  nor  very  unnatural,  as  the  world  goes. 
Landlords,  and  agents,  and  middle-men,  and  society,  and 
governments  have  sins  to  answer  for,  as  well  as  starved 
and  exasperated  tenants,  who  scarcely  know  their  right 
hand  from  their  left.    The  papers  teem  with  allusions  to 

ited  by  a  subterranean  population.  In  one  locality  there  are  as  many  as 
twenty  of  these  bog-dungeons,  with  families  in  them.  Your  correspondent 
lately  heard  one  of  the  highest  employees  of  the  poor-law  staff  give  a  dread- 
fully graphic  picture  of  the  scene  he  had  witnessed  in  Kilrush.  He  had  got 
down  into  one  of  these  bog-dungeons,  in  which  a  family  were  lying  in  fever, 
and  he  succeeded  in  moving  some  of  them,  but  the  odor  of  the  place  was  so 
overpowering  that  he  was  compelled  to  retreat." 

"  In  the  district  of  Dunharrow,  on  nearly  all  the  properties  of  that  barony, 
there  is  scarcely  a  sign  of  a  human  habitation,  except  in  the  dilapidated  ruins 
of  what,  at  no  distant  day,  were  happy  homes.  The  Derry  Castle,  and  the 
Coumbeg,  and  several  other  properties,  are  almost  altogether  depopulated.  It 
is  melancholy  to  pass  through  the  country,  and  see  none  of  those  evidences 
of  life  which  a  few  years  ago  cheered  the  traveler,  and  made  him  rejoice  at 
the  appearance  of  the  people.  Between  Nenagh  and  Cloughjordan — a  dis- 
tance of  about  six  miles — nearly  all  the  houses  have  been  tumbled  down,  and 
that  line  of  road  presents  an  equally  gloomy  and  terrible  aspect.  Between 
Cloughjordan  and  Borrisokane,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Trench  ejected  forty  families, 
comprising  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  souls,  from  the  property  called  Forty 
Acres.  The  houses  are  removed — a  fence  wall  has  been  built  around  the 
property  by  the  stones  that  were  taken  from  those  houses !  A  Mr.  Ely  has 
ejected  and  tumbled  down  the  houses  of  a  great  number  of  persons,  also  in 
the  same  district ;  but  the  houses  are  left  standing,  and  seem  as  if  they  were 
the  debris  left  after  the  cannonading  of  some  hostile  army.  Between  Borris- 
okane and  Nenagh,  the  work  of  destruction  has  also  been  progressing,  to 
some  extent.  It  sickens  the  heart  when  one  looks  upon  the  country — deso- 
late as  if  the  scythe  of  death  had  mowed  down  the  population.  Miles  may  be 
traveled,  and  scarcely  a  human  being  can  be  seen,  except  some  tottering  starve- 
ling endeavoring  to  make  his  way  to  the  relieving  officer  !  In  many  places 
the  poor  are  living  on  nettles,  which  they  endeavor  to  bite  and  eat ;  and  in 
other  places  they  drain  the  streams  of  water- cresses  to  appease  the  ravages 
of  hunger." 


29G 


HOW   THE   COUNTRY   MAY  IMPROVE. 


threats  and  executions,  which  are  too  common  to  need  de- 
scription, and  which  indicate  a  horrible  state  of  society, 
more  fearful  than  on  the  frontiers  of  our  western  territo- 
ries, along  the  borders  where  civilization  and  barbarism 
meet. 

Without  wishing  to  excuse,  in  the  least,  the  wickedness 
of  such  conduct,  or  to  exculpate  the  poor,  oppressed, 
evicted  tenants  from  the  responsibility  due  to  such  enor- 
mous guilt,  I  would  give  my  readers  a  view  of  the  other 
side  of  the  picture.  This  I  can  do  best  by  quoting  from 
the  work  before  alluded  to,  though  I  had  ocular  demonstra- 
tion of  the  correctness  of  the  descriptions  given  ;  not  only 
on  the  estates  alluded  to,  but  also  on  others  which  I  visited. 
I  quote  without  respect  to  arrangement,  simply  to  prove 
the  fact  I  wish  to  establish  ;  viz. :  that  a  large  share  of  the 
responsibility  of  Ireland's  misery  or  improvement  lies  at 
the  door  of  the  nobility  and  gentry — the  land-owners  ;  that 
when  the  tenant  is  well  used  he  improves  ;  when  he  is  abused 
and  treated  as  a  slave,  he  is  lazy,  ignorant,  miserable,  re- 
vengeful, outrageous  ;  and,  hence,  that  the  only  hope  of  the 
redemption  of  the  country  from  its  present  degradation,  is 
by  attaching  the  people  to  the  land  by  some  legal  enact- 
ment, which  will  give  them  security,  and  encourage  them 
to  make  an  effort  to  improve  their  own  condition,  perma- 
nently. 

Mr.  Michael  Murphy,  miller,  of  Dunimark,  says — "  I  am  acquainted  with 
many  cases  in  which  the  tenantry  on  the  estate  of  the  Earl  of  Kenmare,  have 
been  hardly,  indeed  very  cruelly  treated,  and  subjected  to  arbitrary  exactions, 
by  a  person  employed  as  under  agent  of  that  nobleman  The  terms  of  let- 
ting is  generally  from  year  to  year  The  effect  of  this  mode  of  tenure  is 

to  make  the  tenants  completely  subservient  to  their  landlords,  and  to  place 
them  in  subjection  to  the  persons  employed  under  these  landlords,  to  a  degree 
scarcely  credible  to  those  unacquainted  with  the  fact  from  actual  knowledge 
and  experience.  It  has  also  the  effect  of  rendering  the  tenantry  utterly  careless 

about  improving  their  condition  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that,  if  the 

land  was  properly  cultivated,  the  population  would  not  be  too  great  in  the 
barony,  if  it  was  three  times  its  present  number." 

"  Wm.  Neale,  a  tenant,  swears  that  his  rent  under  a  middle-man  was  in- 
creased by  Lord  Kenmare's  agent,  from  £19>,  10.=.  to  £30,  on  the  lease  falling 


GRIEVANCES. 


297 


in  ;  and  that  he  could  not  pay  the  rent,  and  was  turned  out  without  being  allowed 
any  thing  for  the  improvements  he  had  made  ;  moreover,  that  he  was  com- 
pelled to  bribe  the  driver,  or  baililf,  by  giving  £5,  and  that  the  tenantry  gene- 
rally paid  him  bribes." — p.  408. 

Rev.  Thomas  Barry,  the  Roman  Catholic  priest,  is  asked — "  Have  there 
been  any  cases  of  extensive  removals  of  tenantry  in  the  district  ? — Yes,  the 
most  brutal.  Recently  1 — Yes,  there  have  been  instances  within  this  year. 
Were  those  persons  tenants  who  had  previously  paid  their  rent  regularly  1 — 
Yes,  and  were  willing  to  pay  to  the  last." — Ibid. 

"  Mr.  W.  0' Sullivan  complains  that  he  was  turned  out  of  the  land  on  which 
he  was  born,  that  a  higher  rent  was  put  upon  it,  and  the  new  tenant  was  broken 
in  two  years.  That  there  is  a  '  regular  system  of  oppression'  practiced  by  the 
driver  under  Mr.  Galewi.y,  and  '  cows,  sheep,  and  money,  and  every  thing  is 
given  to  him'  as  bribes." — Ibid. 

"  Mr.  C.  H.  Donovan  complains  that  he  laid  out  £200  in  building  a  house 
on  some  land.  He  was  asked  JCIO  more  rent,  which  he  was  unable  to  pay, 
and  was  turned  out  without  any  compensation." — p.  409. 

Mr.  John  O'Connell,  land-owner,  says — "  I  know  that  all  the  land  in  the 
country  is  over-let.  The  land  can  not  bear  at  present  what  is  put  upon  it. 
The  people  pay  too  much  for  their  land — that  I  am  ready  to  admit  as  a  land- 
lord.   I  am  sorry  to  say,  we  expect  too  much  Such  is  the  competition 

for  land  that  '  if  £40  be  asked  for  land  worth  only  £10,  there  will  be  twenty 

applicants  for  it  I  have  a  property  that  came  into  my  hands  about  fifteen 

years  ago — about  seven  hundred  acres — a  fee-simple  property.  They  were 
the  most  refractory  men  in  the  country,  prize-fighters,  and  the  head  of  a  fac- 
tion ;  they  paid  no  rent — they  got  into  arrear.  It  was  the  estate  of  Lord 
Riversdale.  I  bought  the  property  and  sent  for  them  immediately,  and  squared 
accounts  ;  they  owed  four  years'  rent  ;  I  forgave  them  three  and  commenced 
with  one  year,  and  they  are  paying  me  one-half  year's  rent  in  hand.  They  are 
paying  the  original  rent  still,  and  there  are  not  now  in  this  country  a  more  com- 
fortable class  of  tenantry  ;  and  instead  of  being  in  the  public-house,  and  at 
fairs  and  markets  fighting,  they  are  well  clothed,  and  every  man  has  a  slated 

house  and  barn,  where  there  was  nothing  but  poverty  and  indigence  I 

know  that  those  who  hold  by  lease  are  becoming  industrious,  and  making 
money." — p.  411. 

Mr.  Richard  White,  landed  proprietor,  says — "  I  came  into  this  country  de- 
termined to  pursue  a  totally  different  system  to  any  landlord,  which  was  to  give 

an  encouraging  lease  for  three  lives  Since  I  have  done  so,  (assisted  his 

tenants  personally,)  I  have  not  made  a  distress  upon  my  estate,  nor  turned  out 
a  man  ;  and  I  am  perfectly  convinced  that  my  estate  has  not  only  doubled,  but 
trebled  itself,  in  value,  in  the  last  eighteen  years  !  I  am  satisfied,  if  the  land- 
lords would  give  leases  to  their  tenants,  and  if  it  was  the  fashion  to  do  it,  there 
is  a  great  deal  of  misforture  in  the  country  that  would  not  exisit." — p.  413. 

"  I  have  before  me  the  names  of  ten  tenants,  all  with  families,  averaging  six 
in  a  family,  six  of  whom  have  had  actions  of  ejectment  commenced  against  them 
within  the  last  three  weeks,  and  the  other  four  received  notice  to  quit  last  rent 


298 


EVICTIONS. 


day,  not  one  of  WOHM  owes  a  fraction  of  rent.  They  don't  know  why 
they  are  turned  out.  This  is  on  Lord  Kenmare's  property.  These  men  and 
their  families  will  necessarily  resort  either  to  Bantry,  or  to  the  corner  of  a 

hog,  and  become  inhabitants  of  hovels  and  beggars  Lord  Kenmare  is 

reputed  to  be  a  benevolent  man  ;  and  there  way  be  a  reason  for  turning  these 
tenants  out ;  there  is  certainly  the  RIGHT  to  do  it.  But  this  is  not  the 
way  to  make  Bantry  a  city  of  palaces,  nor  yet  to  have  a  thriving  and  contented 

people  ;  for  these  people  must  starve  or  do  worse  Is  it  not  apparent, 

that  neglect  and  want  of  encouragement  of  the  people  had  had  much  to  do 
in  making  this  country  what  it  is?" — Ibid. 

Mr.  Crosby,  landed  proprietor,  of  Ardfert  Abby,  who  expended  £1,500  to 
improve  his  land,  says — "  I  had  districts  of  several  hundred  acres  not  worth 

Is.  an  acre,  and  they  are  worth  2()s.  now  It  is  beneficial  to  myself,  and 

immensely  so  to  the  peasantry,  because  it  is  immediately  reproductive.  The 
change  from  destitution  and  misery,  and  giving  them  good  houses,  was  instan- 
taneous."— p.  375. 

Mr.  Hurley,  of  Tralee,  says — "  I  have  a  farm,  which,  for  nine  years,  never 
paid  me  more  than  £40  or  £50  a  year,  and  that  was  badly  paid.  I  divided  it» 
left  it  to  the  tenants,  and  set  it  at  the  full  value  of  it,  but  gave  them  leases.  .  . 
The  farm  is  now  worth  £200  a  year,  and  as  good  cottier  tenants  as  can  be 
found  any  where  !  .  .  .  .  There  is  too  little  preference  shown  to  the  occupying 
tenants,  and  that  tends  to  prevent  the  proper  intercourse  between  the  landlord 
and  the  tenant  in  this  country.  They  have  not  much  faith  in  landlords,  in  my 
opinion."    [Why  should  they  have?] — p.  378. 

Mr.  J.  Conner,  farmer,  says — "  The  impression  upon  my  mind  is,  for  I 
have  experienced  it,  that  if  we  improve,  the  improvements  would  go  into  the 
hands  of  competitors." — p.  379. 

Mr.  W.  Pope,  farmer,  says — "  If  an  industrious  tenant  lays  out  money  in 
improving,  he  will  be  charged  thirty  and  forty  per  cent  more  rent  than  his 
neighbor !" — Ibid. 

"  One  or  other  of  these  two  things  a  tenant  has  a  right  to  expect,  if  he  im- 
proves his  land — either  that  his  land  shall  be  secured  to  him  for  a  term  of  years 
sufficiently  long  to  repay  him  for  the  money  and  labor  he  invests  in  it,  or  that 
he  shall  be  paid  for  the  value  of  the  improvements  he  has  effected  in  the  land, 
if  the  landlord  will  not  give  him  a  lease,  and  chooses  to  terminate  his  tenancy 
and  increase  the  rent.  Thi3  is  simply  common  justice  ;  for  he  has  there  in- 
vested his  labor  and  money,  not  on  his  own  land  to  benefit  himself,  but  on  his 
landlord's  land  to  the  benefit  of  his  landlord.  If  a  merchant  employs  a  tailor 
to  manufacture  his  bale  of  cloth  into  coats,  the  tailor,  if  the  merchant  refuse  to 
pay  him  for  his  labor  and  skill,  has  his  action  against  the  merchant  for  the 
value  of  his  work  and  labor.  But  if  a  landlord,  or  a  middle-man,  apeing 
landlord,  employs  a  farmer  to  manufacture  his  bog  into  corn  fields,  or  permits 
him  to  do  it  under  a  false  pretence  of  security,  that  he  shall  repay  himself  for 
his  labor,  and  then  takes  from  him  the  corn-fields  so  manufactured  without  re- 
paying him,  then  has  the  tenant  no  action  against  his  landlord  for  the  value 
of  his  work  and  labor  ?o  expended.   This  constitutes  the  difference  between 


LOCAL   REFORM  NEEDED. 


299 


the  law  as  regards  merchants,  and  the  law  as  regards  landlords.  The  one 
must  pay  for  permissive  labor  employed  for  his  benefit,  with  cash  down,  or  a 
check  on  his  banker ;  the  other  need  only  wipe  off  such  little  scores  with 
a  notice  to  quit,  or  an  action  of  ejectment.  The  latter  course  has  plainly  an 
advantage  over  the  former — that  is,  i'jr  the  landlord.  The  landlords  who 
have  the  (sole)  privilege  of  making  these  laws  have  always  had  a  very 
clear  perception  that  this  was  an  advantage.  But  then  the  farmers  are  not 
quite  so  stupid  as  not  to  see  that  the  scale  is  not  quite  even — that  they  peep 
through  the  other  end  of  the  telescope  ;  through  the  end  the  landlords  peep  the 
profits  of  the  system  are  very  considerably  magnified  to  their  advantage  ;  but 
taking  the  farmer's  peep  through  the  other  end,  shows  the  profits  to  be  infini- 
tismally  small,  and  the  vision  of  probable  advantage  so  minute  and  indistinct, 
and  uncertain,  and  distant  that  the  poor  farmers,  in  despair,  cease  to  manufac- 
ture bogs  into  corn-fields.  r»nd  the  landlords'  bogs  remain  bogs,  and  repay  both 
them  and  their  tenants  with  bog-returns  and  bog-profits.  This  is  but  another 
elucidation  of  the  adage,  that  after  all,  '  honesty  is  the  best  policy.'  The  sim- 
ple truth  is,  that  this  principle  of  landlord  and  tenant-law  is  not  honest  ;  and 
its  impolicy  is  seen  in  the  bogs  and  wastes  of  Ireland,  as  well  as  in  the  dimin- 
ished supply  and  the  want  of  demand." — pp.  405-7. 

My  readers,  by  this  time,  must  have  a  tolerable  insight 
into  the  cause  of  the  misery  of  the  Irish  people.  They 
should  remember  that  this  is  purely  an  agricultural  country, 
that  manufactures  and  commerce  are  not  carried  on  to  anv 
great  extent.  The  immense  water-power,  vastly  superior 
to  England,  is  unemployed,  and  the  innumerable  and  excel- 
lent harbors  are  vacant  of  ships,  or  visited  by  those  from 
foreign  countries.  The  fisheries,  which  are  abundant,  are 
wofully  neglected,  and  those  carried  on  subject  to  the  same 
difficulties  as  the  land.  The  "  hookers"  are  furnished  by  a 
set  of  jobbers  who  make  all  the  profits,  while  the  poor 
fisherman  is  barely  able  to  get  a  subsistence  of  the  meanest 
kind,  of  which  we  had  a  full  demonstration  on  board  the 
hooker  which  brought  us  on  shore. 

I  would  recall  an  idea  thrown  out  some  pages  back, 
touching  the  right  to  the  soil,  and  the  motive  to  prosperity. 
The  author  of  the  "  Times  Letters,"  who  says  many  excel- 
lent things,  and  so  far  as  facts  are  concerned,  is,  no  doubt, 
generally  reliable,  has  taken  the  liberal  English  view  of 
every  thing,  He,  in  common  with  most  others  who  have 
written  on  the  subject,  finds  the  main  cause  of  Irish  penury 


300 


A    FEE   IN    THE  LAND. 


and  suffering  in  the  neglect  of  land-owners,  middle-men,  and 
lazy  ignorant  tenants.  These  are,  no  doubt,  the  apparent, 
but  they  are  not  the  real  cause  of  the  evil.  That  is  to  be 
found  back  of  all  that  has  been  unfolded.  It  lies  in  the  fact 
that  the  people  have  no  acknowledged,  actual  right  to  the 
soil,  no  fee  in  the  land  they  cultivate,  in  the  houses  they 
rear,  or  the  permanent  improvements  they  make. 

We  have  seen  that  where  the  landlords  are  kind,  and 
give  long  leases,  teach  the  arts  of  improved  agriculture,  or 
pay  their  workmen  well,  the  people  are  contented,  faithful, 
and  happy.  Such  landlords  are  never  threatened,  after  the 
influence  of  their  goodness  is  felt.  But,  as  the  scale  as- 
cends, ambition  may  increase,  and  these  tenants  may  wish 
to  own  their  lands,  to  be  free  and  independent — to  be  men 
among  men.  No  such  event  is  contemplated  by  the  British 
laws  of  entail — of  hereditary  rights,,  and  hence  there  is  no 
motive,  no  feeling,  which  aspires  above  dependence  and 
servitude. 

Can  an  American,  familiar  with  the  independence  of  our 
farmers,  who  own  their  lands,  and  pay  but  nominal  taxes  for 
the  support  of  the  government  they  make  themselves,  won- 
der at  the  destitution,  misery,  crime,  and  intimidation  so 
common  here?  He  is  never  disturbed  by  the  haughty 
agent  of  an  absentee  landlord,  nor  teazed  and  taunted  by  a 
domineering  agent,  or  middle-man.  He  tills  his  own  land, 
sleeps  in  his  own  cottage,  "  none  to  molest  or  make  him 
afraid."  He  is  a  sovereign — a  prince  in  his  own  palace, 
and,  unless  he  is  cursed  with  the  ownership  of  more  land 
than  he  needs,  or  with  slaves,  sees  none  around  him  but 
those  he  has  engaged  on  mutual  terms,  at  fair  wages,  rates 
which  will  enable  them,  in  five  vears,  to  become  farmers 
themselves.  Blessed  is  the  lot  of  the  American  farmer! 
He  may  be,  so  far  as  condition  is  concerned,  the  best,  the 
happiest  and  most  independent  among  men  ! 

How  can  all  the  remedies  England's  philanthropists  and 
statesmen  have  proposed,  ever  effect  .a  radical  cure  of  the 
enormous  evils  complained  of,  so  long  as  the  land  is  kept  in 


THE   RADICAL  CURE. 


301 


the  hands  of  the  few,  and  the  masses  are  left  in  a  state  of 
dependence  and  servitude  ?  Xot  until  human  nature  is 
changed  can  one  man.  who  has  a  soul  to  feel,  and  a  will  to 
resolve,  be  forced  bv  direct  action,  or  incidental  circum- 
stance,  into  a  state  of  subjection  to  another  like  himself, 
and  feel  at  peace ;  and,  until  a  man  feels  happiness,  or  sees 
it  before  him,  he  will  not  be  satisfied. — he  will  not  rest. 
Men,  reduced  to  the  rank  of  cattle,  or  made  machines,  with- 
out icilL  without  ambition,  without  responsibility,  may  do 
anv  thing — but  good.  That  thev  can  not  do;  for  thev  have 
no  power,  no  means.  And  it  is  no  cause  of  wonder,  if  they 
occasionally  break  loose  and.  with  brute  force,  take  ven- 
geance on  the  head  that  oppresses  them.  The  caged  lion 
will  growl  and  snarl,  and  devour  if  he  can.  The  more  there 
is  of  the  man.  the  stronger  is  the  love  of  libertv  and  risrht, 
the  firmer  his  resolve  to  resist  oppression. 

The  turbulence  of  this  population,  shows  that  there  is 
life-blood  at  the  heart,  struggling  to  circulate  without  im- 
pediment. The  danger  is  that  the  circulation  has  been 
checked  so  long,  that  the  fever  has  affected  the  brain,  and 
that  the  English  doctors  will  therefore  think  further  deple- 
tion necessary.  But  that  will  only  reduce  the  system  lower, 
and  render  recovery  less  certain,  unless  followed  with  great 
care  and  suitable  nourishment. 

I  am  glad  Ireland  is  not  dead,  that  the  people  breathe — 
some  even  for  freedom,  and  that  all  sigh  for  a  better  state  of 
things.  I  believe  that  dav  will  come,  not  bv  rebellion  :  for 
it  is  a  vain  method  to  attempt  to  overcome  one  evil  bv 
another ;  but  by  a  course  of  gradual  amelioration,  till  rotten 
estates  shall  go  into  complete  decay,  as  they  are  going  at  a 
rapid  rate,  and  rotten  lords  be  found  a  useless  burden  to  the 
state,  the  right  of  primogeniture  be  abolished,  with  which 
the  law  of  entail  must  fall ;  and  an  open  field  and  fair  plav 
be  afforded  to  all. 

Then  shall  virtue  and  merit  rise  to  a  proper  rank,  and 
gilded  indolence  and  vice  receive  a  merited  rebuke.  In- 
dustry, honesty,  and  frugality  shall  be  duly  honored  and 


302 


A   RADICAL  COURSE 


recompensed,  and  the  arrogance  of  fortuitous  birth,  and  un- 
deserved distinction  be  hurled  into  disgrace.  The  kingdom 
of  Heaven  will  then  begin,  and  the  church  will  be  untram- 
meled  in  its  career  by  needless  splendors,  and  tithes  upon 
poverty.  The  clergy  will  cease  to  be  wolves  in  sheep's 
clothing,  biting  and  devouring  one  another,  and  become 
what  their  office  indicates,  shepherds  of  the  flock,  servants 
of  servants,  to  guide,  and  help,  and  bless,  and  save  humanity. 
Every  man  will  sit  down  under  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree, 
and  all  will  become  kings  and  priests  unto  God. 

But  I  see  no  hope  for  Ireland  without  it.  The  repeal 
of  the  union  can  not  effect  it,  neither  can  the  actual  inde- 
pendence of  Ireland  from  English  authority.  A  moral  and 
social  reform  is  needed.  The  tenure  by  which  real  estates 
is  held  must  be  changed,  the  curses  of  rank  must  be 
abolished,  the  last  trace  of  feudalism  wiped  out,  and  church 
and  state  divorced,  before  Ireland  can  become  the  home  of 
prosperity  and  peace.  Any  approximation  towards  this  end 
is  so  much  gained.  But  the  sore,  to  be  cured  permanently, 
must  be  healed  from  the  bottom.  It  is  not  enough  to 
lay  emolients  or  irritants  upon  the  surface.  Probe  to  the 
bottom,  doctors,  and  cauterize  if  need  be.  Don't  under- 
take to  heal  it  slightly,  lest  it  break  out,  and  slough  more 
odiously  and  dangerously  than  before.  Astringents  may 
be  needful  in  your  opinion;  but  apply  them  cautiously,  lest 
you  increase  the  inflammation.  Do  not  bandage  too  tightly. 
As  a  disciple  of  Priesnitz  and  Jefferson,  I  would  recom- 
mend pure,  cool,  simple  remedies,  great  care  in  the  diet, 
and  a  proper  regard  to  free  and  unrestrained  exercise  in  the 
open  air,  as  fast  as  health  will  permit,  always  encouraging 
hope  with  the  strongest  assurance  of  ultimate  and  com- 
plete recovery.  Under  such  a  course  of  treatment,  your 
armies  and  policemen  might  soon  be  disbanded,  and  your 
barracks,  and  your  jails,  and  your  poor-houses,  be  turned 
into  homes  of  industry,  plenty,  and  peace ;  and  on  Ireland 
might  be  fulfilled,  in  a  brief  half  century,  the  beautiful  pro- 
phecy, "  Swords  shall  be  turned  into  ploughshares,  and 


SHOULD   BE  PURSUED. 


303 


spears  into  pruning-hooks,  and  the  people  learn  war  no 
more." 

But  you  say  this  is  very  fine  in  theory,  but  all  imagina- 
tion ;  and  you  point  to  past  centuries  to  prove  its  impossi- 
bility. But  hast  thou  no  faith  but  in  the  past?  none  in 
God  and  the  future?  Seest  thou  no  cloud  in  the  west, 
not  even  as  big  as  a  man's  hand,  portentous  of  good  ?  Thy 
works,  O  England,  would  seem  to  indicate  that  thou  hast 
had  no  faith  in  Ireland,  in  times  gone  by,  for  one  of  thine 
own  jurists  has  said,  in  words  too  true,  that  "  You  may 
track  Ireland  through  the  statute  book,  as  you  d  follow  a 
wounded  man  through  a  crowd — by  blood  !"  Thou  hast 
not  laid  the  axe  at  the  root  of  the  tree.  Thy  Williams, 
thy  Henrys,  thy  James's,  thy  Elizabeth,  thy  Cromwell,  and 
thy  ministers  since,  even  those  of  Irish  birth — Castlereagh 
among  them — have  hated  Ireland  and  abused  it ;  and  thy 
church  has  robbed  and  oppressed  it ;  and  thy  whole  gov- 
ernment has  not  been  that  of  a  "  nursing  father,"  but  of  an 
enemy,  a  conqueror !  Thou  must  mend  thy  ways,  or  Ire- 
land will  rebel,  if  able,  or  emigrate,  or  else  starve  and  rot. 

Thou  hast  the  power,  thou  hast  the  wisdom ;  try  and  get 
the  will.  Don't  be  afraid,  I  entreat  you,  of  growling  land- 
lords, or  whining  priests,  or  brawling  politicians.  Show 
thy  live  courage — not  by  blood  and  carnage  ;  thou  shouldst 
be  glutted  with  that  already.  Show  the  nobleness  of  the 
animal  on  the  united  banner,  and  let  the  shamrock  blend 

with  the  rose  and  thistle  upon  the  escutcheon  of  thy  great- 
ness ! 

Change  thy  policy  towards  this  noble,  beautiful,  but  un- 
happy country.  Thy  philosophers  are  not  afraid  of  experi- 
ments ;  neither  should  thy  statesmen  be.  Try  one  in  the 
crucible  of  kindness,  and  see  if  Irishmen  even,  have  no 
hearts,  to  melt  in  tears  of  gratitude — no  pure  metal,  wrapt 
up  in  the  alloy  of  a  rough  exterior.  Abused  and  neglected 
as  they  have  been,  till  they  have  come  to  hate  and  devour 
one  an  other,  for  which,  in  part,  thou  art  responsible  ;  for 
thou  hast  encouraged  Orangemen,  and  oppressed  Catholics, 


304 


A   MUTUAL  WORK. 


and  done  many  naughty  things.  And  yet,  bad  as  thou  hast 
helped  to  make  them,  we  find  little  difficulty  with  them  in 
our  country,  except  where  they  congregate  in  masses,  and 
retain  their  old  ideas  and  feelings.  They  serve  us  well  in 
our  kitchens,  and  stables,  and  fields,  and  mines,  and  stores, 
and  ships,  and  farms.  They  dig  our  canals,  and  grade  our 
railroads,  through  mountains  and  over  vallies.  They  sit  in 
our  legislatures  and  courts,  and  thev  fill  our  armies  and  na- 

O  'J 

vies,  as  thou  wilt  have  occasion  to  know,  if  any  untoward 
circumstance  should  ever  determine  thee  to  war  with  us 
again.  A  few  months'  training  suffices  to  make  them 
about  equal  to  Englishmen,  in  the  wants  and  works  of  our 
country ;  I  mean,  if  they  have  had  tolerable  advantages  at 
home. 

Thy  cousins  of  the  Emerald  Isle  are  becoming  an  im- 
portant item  in  the  constitution  of  our  community.  It 
would  be  well,  then,  if  thou  wouldst  not  send  all  thy  poor- 
est and  most  ignorant  to  us,  but  be  generous,  and  help  in 
this  work  of  education.  We  will  do  what  we  can,  and 
thou  must  do  what  thou  canst,  what  thou  so  much  neglect- 
est ;  for  we  remember  whence  we  sprang,  and  it  will  not 
be  good  in  us  to  disown  the  children  whom  our  "  mother" 
(country)  refuses  to  own  and  nurse.  But,  having  grown 
somewhat  older  since  thou  didst  play  the  tyrant  and  disin- 
herit us — in  knowledge,  power,  and  wealth — we  will  take 
what  thy  inability  and  old  age  will  not  allow  thee  to  do, 
and  provide  for  them.  Yea,  we  will  take  thy  rebels,  if 
thou  pleasest — not  all  thy  mean  men — thy  gamblers  and 
burglars,  as  we  are  wont ;  we  have  too  many  of  them 
already — but  thy  political  agitators,  and  disturbers  of  thy 
political  peace — thy  O'Briens,  and  Mitchels,  and  Meaghers. 
Thou  needst  not  manacle  them,  and  be  at  the  trouble  of 
sending  a  ship  to  carry  them  to  Botany  Bay.  Just  put  them 
on  board  a  transit  ship  and  send  them  to  us.  We  have 
use  for  them,  and  do  not  fear,  so  be  they  keep  out  of  one 
State,  which  had  thy  charter  for  a  guide  till  a  few  years  ago. 
Every  where  else  they  may  go  in  peace.    I  do  entreat 


CHARITY    BEGINS    AT  HOME. 


305 


thee,  be  kind  and  Christian  to  thy  children  once,  on  this 
side  the  channel,  and  see  if  they  will  not  be  good.  Don't 
set  the  elder  against  the  younger,  by  primogeniture  rights, 
for  God,  even  under  the  old  law,  some  times  reversed  it. 
Jacob,  and  Joseph,  and  David  were  not  the  eldest  of  their 
fathers'  children.  In  the  new,  "we  are  all  one" — alike  in 
Christ. 

Thou  wilt  find  no  lack  for  thy  humane  efforts,  if  thou 
wilt  lay  off  the  goggles  of  thy  nobility,  and  look  at  things 
as  they  are.  Both  priest  and  statesman,  school-master  and 
manufacturer,  farmer  and  mechanic,  may  be  busy  in  better 
work  than  grinding  swords,  building  prisons,  forging  chains, 
and  writing  homilies.  These  laws  may  be  made  just  and 
equal,  these  souls  may  be  saved,  these  minds  may  be  edu- 
cated, these  rivers  turned  upon  the  wheels,  and  spindles 
set  a-going,  these  bogs  drained,  mountain  lands  tilled,  and 
worn  lands  improved.  Here  is  a  broad  field  for  thy  phi- 
lanthropy, without  troubling  thyself  about  South  Carolina 
and  Georgia.  The  free  States  will  take  care  of  American 
slavery,  and  it  is  better  for  thee  to  work  humanely  nearer 
at  home.  We  have  heard  thy  advice,  and  like  it,  and  give 
thee  this  in  return,  with  the  hope  it  may  do  thee  some  good, 
and  make  thee  love  thy  Irish  children  better,  and  do  them 
less  harm,  and  more  good  ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  UPPER  SHANNON. 

Killaloe. — Lough  Derg. — Landing  Passengers. — Monopolies. — Holy  Islands. 
— Personal  and  Moral  Beauty. — English  Ability  to  Help  Ireland. — Por- 
tumna. — Ancient  and  Modern  Works. — Redwood  Castle. — Victoria 
Locke. — A  Beautiful  Spot. — Bennagher. — War  Establishment. — English 
Policy. — The  Question  of  Natural  Rights. — Paying  Priests. — Monaste- 
ries.— Something  Better. — Shannon  Harbor. 

Killaloe  has  a  poetic  name,  a  romantic  and  beautiful  lo- 
cation, and  many  legendary  reminiscences  of  Irish  valor 

26* 


300 


KIM.. A  LOR. 


and  magnificence.  It  was  the  central  residence  of  Brian 
Boroihme,  the  great  hero  and  monarch  of  Irish  patriotism. 
It  has  little  else  to  boast  of.  The  quays  along  the  river, 
and  the  new  pier  at  which  the  steamboats  land,  show  some 
signs  of  life  and  business  ;  but  every  thing  else  bears  the 
stamp  of  time,  neglect,  and  poverty.  The  buildings,  gen- 
erally, are  old  and  dilapidated.  Rows  of  small,  low  cabins 
are  strung  along  the  elevated  ground,  without  much  respect 
to  order — in  true  Irish  style.  A  few  decent  buildings  are 
seen  near  the  business  part,  and  several  really  elegant  man- 
sions in  the  neighborhood.  Among  the  latter,  I  noticed 
particularly  the  diocesan  seat,  or  "  palace  of  the  Bishop," 
called  Clarisford  House.  It  is  a  good  mansion,  surrounded 
with  elegant  and  shady  grounds,  which  reach  to  the  bank 
of  the  river  and  line  of  the  canal,  for  some  distance.  The 
Bishop  of  Killaloe  lives  here  in  great  splendor,  with  a  large 
income,  and  little  to  do.* 

On  the  opposite  or  Tipperary  side,  is  Brian's  fort,  once  a 
strong  fortification,  commanding  this  important  pass  be- 
tween the  north  and  south.  It  is  no  longer  of  any  con- 
cern, for  Connaught,  and  Leinster,  and  Munster,  are  no 
longer  separate  kingdoms,  with  opposing  interests,  but  are 
alike  crushed  and  suffering  beneath  the  oppressor's  power. 
Neither  can  the  heroes  of  Munster  meet  here,  to  oppose  the 
intrusion  of  English  invaders,  as  in  the  days  of  King  Wil- 
liam, when  Sarsfield  intercepted  the  reinforcement  coming 
to  the  siege  of  Limerick. 

The  long  bridge  which  crosses  the  Shannon,  to  the  vil- 
lage of  Ballina,  is  an  object  of  some  curiosity,  on  account 

*  "  An  extract  from  the  return  of  probate-wills,  made  to  the  British 
House  of  Commons  in  1832,  shows  that  Beresford,  Abp.  of  Tuam,  left 
£250,000  ;  Fowler,  Abp.  of  Dublin,  £400,000;  Cleaver,  Bp.  of  Ferns, 
£50,000  ;  Porter,  Bp.  of  Clogher,  £250,000 ;  Knox,  Bp.  of  Killaloe, 
£100,000  ;  Bernard,  Bp.  of  Limerick,  £60,000  ;  Hawkins,  Bp.  of  Raphoe, 
£200,000  ;  that  is  an  average  of  £188,750  for  each  of  these  Protestant 
priests,  after  supporting  their  families  in  splendor  during  their  lives,  and 
this  from  the  poorest  people  in  Christendom  ;  and  that,  too,  the  great 
mass  being  not  of  their  own  communion." 


ITS  ROMANTIC  SITUATION. 


307 


of  its  numerous  arches.  But  the  cathedral  most  attracted 
our  attention.  It  is  an  ancient  building,  of  massive  pro- 
portions, and,  from  its  commanding  position,  becomes  a 
more  prominent  object  than  an)  other,  except  the  mauso- 
leum of  the  famous  Brian  Boroihme,  which  is  a  pile  with- 
out symmetry  or  beauty,  designed  to  mark  the  last  resting- 
place  of  Ireland's  most  honored  chieftain.  Above  the  vil- 
lages, on  the  west  side,  is  an  elegant  villa,  occupying  an 
elevated  and  romantic  site,  on  the  shores  of  the  iake,  back 
of  which  rises  Slievebernagh,  a  lofty  hill,  which  looks  down 
upon  this  charming  lake,  and  commands  an  extensive  view 
of  the  counties  of  Limerick,  Clare,  Gal  way,  Tipperary,  and 
far  up  and  down  the  valley  of  the  Shannon.  On  the  op- 
posite side  is  Derry  castle,  on  a  bold  projection  of  the  Arra 
mountains,  which  border  this  part  of  the  lake,  the  elegant 
mansion  of  some  grandee.  Back  of  this,  to  the  north,  the 
mountains  rise  precipitously  nearly  two  thousand  feet,  and 
are  said  to  contain  valuable  quarries  of  slate,  which  are 
extensively  and  profitably  worked.  I  saw  large  quantities 
piled  about  the  quays,  indicative  of  considerable  business 
in  that  line. 

The  scenery  in  this  region  is  very  fine.  The  beautiful 
valley  through  which  the  Shannon  hurries  its  winding  way, 
with  broad  plains  on  either  side,  with  here  and  there  a  wooded 
hill,  and  the  far  off  ranges  in  the  distance,  bounded  by  Slieve 
Pheling,  Devil's  Bit,  Gottymore,  and  others  of  equal  grandeur 
on  the  north,  by  the  lofty  mountains  which  approach  to  the 
very  shores  of  the  lake,  just  at  its  outlet ;  then  the  calm,  clear 
waters  spreading  off  to  the  north,  with  sinuosities  pene- 
trating far  into  the  sides  of  the  rugged  mountains  which 
border  its  shores — every  thing  is  pleasing,  varied,  and  ro- 
mantic. I  remarked  to  my  friends  that  the  old  Irish  must 
have  been  a  poetic  race,  for  they  alwTays  chose  the  most 
beautiful  and  romantic  spots  for  their  castles  and  towns. 
This  might  have  been  caused  by  another  motive — the 
strength  of  the  positions,  and  the  ease  with  which  a  castle 
could  1  e  built  sufficiently  strong  to  resist  opposing  clans. 


308 


A   BEAUTIFUL  DEMESNE. 


These  strong  holds  are  in  narrow  passes,  on  projecting 
cliffs,  isolated  rocks,  or  narrow  necks  or  points  of  land, 
where  the  feudal  lord  could  congregate  his  vassals,  and 
defend  himself  from  the  missiles  of  assailing  enemies. 
The  introduction  of  gunpowder  rendered  these  castles  use- 
less defences,  and  they  have  gone  into  ruin.  But  the  vil- 
lages about  them  remain,  and  indicate  more,  perhaps,  the 
love  of  life,  clannish  arrogance,  and  good  engineering,  than 
an  innate,  poetic  admiration  of  natural  beauty. 

Two  or  three  steamers  were  lying  at  the  pier,  not  far 
from  the  landing  of  the  canal  boat.  A  crowd  of  ragged 
men  and  boys  were  huddled  about,  in  waiting  to  beg,  or 
get  a  job,  the  former  being  far  the  most  energetic  in  the 
prosecution  of  their  business.  We  conveyed  our  own 
baggage  to  the  steamer,  in  republican  style,  somewhat  to 
the  dissatisfaction  of  the  scores  who  strove  to  take  it  from 
us.  We  had  here  a  sample  of  urgent  haste,  such  as  some 
times  characterizes  our  own  countrymen,  when  about  to 
leave  a  boat.  A  woman  was  anxious  to  get  on  shore  be- 
fore the  narrow  plank  was  laid  on  the  bows  of  the  boat, 
by  which,  with  great  care,  we  were  barely  able  to  get  to 
the  land  with  dry  feet.  Either  misjudging  her  strength  or 
the  distance,  she  leaped  into  the  shoal  water,  and  splashed 
about  like  a  sturgeon  just  caught,  much  to  the  amusement 
of  the  company  on  shore,  who  laughed  heartily  at  her  mis- 
fortune. 

Some  distance  up  the  lake,  we  passed  an  elegant  de- 
mesne, on  a  beautiful  and  extensive  point  of  land,  which 
penetrates  some  distance  into  the  water,  and  sweeps  back, 
in  rich  undulations,  towards  the  dark  summits  of  the  Arra 
mountains.  It  is  a  lovely  spot,  and,  in  appearance,  the 
abode  of  rural  prosperity  and  comfort.  But  all  the  beau- 
ties of  nature  are  sadly  marred  in  this  unhappy  land. 
There  are  few  spots  in  this  world,  I  have  ever  seen,  more 
highly  blessed  by  nature,  and  none  made  so  miserable  by 
the  wrongs  and  imprudence  of  man,  for  whose  happiness 
it  was  so  elegantly  fitted  up.    This  lake  is  a  beautiful  sheet 


LOUGH  DERG. 


309 


of  water,  and  this  estate  a  most  charming  location ;  but  its 
very  beauty  is  made  odious  by  the  surrounding  misery. 
The  extensive  park,  lined  with  a  variety  of  elegant  trees, 
with  herds  of  deer  grazing  on  the  lawn,  the  long,  shady 
avenues  leading  to  the  mansion,  and  the  rich  fields  beyond, 
are  all  attractive,  grand,  and  tasteful ;  but  how  can  a  heart, 
capable  of  appreciating  the  loveliness  of  such  a  spot,  enjoy 
it,  while  starvation  is  staring,  with  envious  eyes,  and  po- 
verty and  hatred  lie  groaning  and  grumbling  under  the 
walls  ? 

Mere  wealth,  and  power,  and  splendor  can  avail  nothing 
towards  genuine  happiness,  while  the  very  position  occupied 
is  the  source  of  misery  to  others.  Pride  can  not  fully  blind 
the  heart ;  neither  can  success  in  the  prosecution  of  selfish 
ends,  silence  the  claims  of  our  better  nature  which  solicit 
another's  good.  Hainan  was  not  happy  while  Mordecai  sat 
at  the  king's  gate  Irish  nobles  and  gentry,  whether  of 
Celtic  or  Gothic  extraction,  are  ill  at  ease  amid  the  scenes 
of  wretchedness  they  have  themselves  helped  to  produce 
or  perpetuate.  I  do  not  wonder  that  they  live  abroad,  and 
rarely  come  here  to  look  upon  their  estates,  if  for  nothing 
but  to  forget,  if  possible,  the  wickedness  of  their  own  ne- 
glect, and  the  sight  of  misery  their  own  luxuries  have  caused. 

1  feel  sad  as  I  pass  over  this  beautiful  lake,  and  look  upon 
the  varied  and  fertile  shores,  and  think  of  the  vast  resources 
of  this  poverty  stricken  nation.  Every  thing  wears  a  som- 
bre appearance,  and  I  can  not  be  cheerful.  There  is  a  chord 
which  links  humanity  together,  which,  like  the  telegraphic 
wire,  once  touched,  communicates  its  message  to  the  heart. 
It  would  not  be  well  to  resist  this  influence  if  we  could. 
Bv  shutting;  out  the  ravs  of  lisrht,  we  mav  not  see  the  dust 
in  the  room  ;  but  it  is  there,  nevertheless,  and,  added  to  its 
own  evil,  we  deny  ourselves  the  counteracting  influences, 
we  might  otherwise  obtain.  I  am  glad  that  I  am  here  ;  that 
I  have  seen  what  I  have  ;  that  I  know  what  I  do  of  the 
dark  phases  of  human  nature,  which  can  never  be  learned 
at  home. 


310 


HANDSOME  SHORES. 


Lough  Derg  is  some  twenty  miles  long.  It  is  twenty-five 
miles  from  Killaloe  to  Portumna,  but  these  towns  are  a  mile 
or  two  from  the  lake.  Its  breadth  is  various,  from  three  or 
four,  to  eight  or  ten  miles.  A  wide  bay  puts  off  to  the 
west,  at  the  head  of  which  is  Scariff  in  Clare  ;  another 
nearly  opposite,  towards  Nenagh,  the  chief  town  in  the 
north  riding  of  Tipperary.  These  form  the  widest  part  of 
the  lake.  The  shores  are  deeply  indented,  and  at  the  south 
end,  abrupt  and  broken.  Farther  up  the  lake  the  shores  are 
more  level,  and  said  to  be  capable  of  the  highest  cultivation. 
The  hills  rise  more  gradually  and  their  summits  are  less  ele- 
vated and  more  distant.  Deep  and  beautiful  valleys  approach 
to  the  lake  from  the  back  country,  and  add  greatly  to  the* 
picturesqueness  of  the  scenery.  There  are  no  villages  of 
much  consequence  immediately  on  the  borders  of  the  lake  ; 
but  old  dilapidated  castles  are  seen  in  abundance,  in  all 
directions  on  every  jutting  headland,  and  in  almost  every 
secure  and  beautiful  spot.  The  names  of  several  of  these, 
and  the  legends  connected  with  them,  are  given  me  as  we 
pass  along,  but  few  of  them  I  care  to  remember.  I  have  no 
reverence  for  feudalism  in  any  shape,  but  it  is  well  to  know 
something  of  what  has  been,  that  we  may  learn  to  appreciate 
what  is. 

We  have  just  landed  some  passengers  at  Dromineer,  the 
port  of  Nenagh,  the  boats  coming  off  a  long  distance  to 
effect  the  exchange.  This  must  be  dangerous  business  in 
rough  weather,  and  to  us  appears  very  unaccommodating. 
I  remember  when  little  boats  used  to  be  sent  out  by  a  line 
to  land  passengers  at  the  villages  along  the  Hudson.  We 
should  now  call  that  an  awkward  and  dangerous  operation. 
But  here  there  is  little  enterprise,  and  no  opposition.  Pub- 
lic carriers  consult  their  own  interest,  and  the  people  must 
submit  to  any  inconvenience.  A  stage  never  takes  up  nor 
leaves  passengers,  except  at  their  own  offices — often  in  a 
stable-yard,  and  steamboats  land  their  passengers  into 
small  boats,  and  an  extra  charge  is  charged  for  taking  them 


THE   BLESSING    OF  FREEDOM. 


311 


on  shore.  A  company  which  should  practice  thus  in  our 
country,  need  never  make  a  second  trip. 

Such  is  the  working  of  freedom  and  monarchy.  With 
us  the  people  rule,  and  companies  and  statesmen  must  serve 
the  public.  Here  monopolies  rule,  and  the  people  must  sub- 
mit. With  one  all  is  animation.,  cheerfulness,  readiness  to 
serve,  freedom  to  enjoy,  and  equality  of  feeling  ;  with  the 
other,  dullness,  sycophancy,  haughtiness,  moroseness — a  sort 
of  "Do  this,  or  go  to  the  devil,"  as  one  man  expressed  it. 
The  evils  of  an  aristocratic  government  may  be  seen  and 
fell  in  all  ranks  of  society,  but  in  nothing  more  than  in  the 
social  condition  of  the  people.  I  thank  my  God  that  I  was 
born  in  a  free  country,  and  bred  up  under  democratic  insti- 
tutions ;  where  every  man  is  a  unit,  and  self-dependent  for 
success ;  and  where  the  natural,  equal  and  indefeasible 
rights  of  all  men  are  tolerably  well  understood  and  regarded, 
and  where  each  man  is  held  responsible  for  the  defence  of 
his  own,  and  the  invasion  of  another's.  Corporations  with 
us  can  not  rise  above  individual  privileges ;  and,  though 
soulless,  are  alike  responsible  to  the  popular  will,  for  their 
conduct  and  their  existence.  They  may,  for  a  time,  plav 
a  blind  game,  and  deceive  the  community,  and  bias  the  go- 
vernment, but  a  day  of  retribution  always  overtakes  them. 
In  freedom,  the  right  and  good,  alone  can  stand  in  perma- 
nence, as,  in  the  light,  truth  only  can  appear  with  safetv. 

At  some  distance  on  our  left,  we  passed  the  Holy  Islands 
situated  in  ScarifT  bay,  not  far  from  the  north  shore.  On 
one  of  them  is  an  ancient  round  tower,  and  near  it  a  pile 
of  ruins  are  to  be  seen.  The  island  appears  to  be  low  and 
level,  and  of  small  dimensions.  It  is  called  Irish  coltra,  the 
Holy  Island,  or  Seven  Churches,  and  was  formerlv  one  of 
the  ,;  stations"  to  which  pilgrimages  were  made  bv  the 
Catholics  to  do  penance  and  obtain  the  forgiveness  of  their 
sins.  There  were  seven  churches  built  upon  it.  besides  the 
round  tower.  Connected  with  this  was  St.  Patrick's  Pur- 
gatory, where  the  more  wicked  and  obstinate  were  put 
through  a  severe  course  of  training  till  submission  was  pro- 


312 


HOLY  ISLAND. 


duced  and  absolution  merited.  This  u  station"  was  once 
as  much  celebrated  as  that  on  Lough  Derg,  in  Donnegal.* 
Several  passengers  assured  me  that  it  is  still  visited  by 
many  pilgrims  who  come  here  to  do  penance  for  their  sins. 
One  of  them  is  a  gentleman  of  great  respectability,  who  is 
familiar  with  this  region,  having  been  often  to  the  island 
and  distributed  many  comforts  among  the  people.  I  pity 
the  poor  creatures  who  are  so  blinded  by  ignorance,  but  I 
do  not  marvel  at  their  folly.    I  have  seen  enough,  in  the  do- 

*  "  The  lake  covers  two  thousand  one  hundred  and  forty  acres  ;  its  shores 
are  wild  and  dreary ;  and  its  principal  islets  are  Inish-goosh — Saint's  Island, 
and  Station  Island,  or  St.  Patrick's  Purgatory  ;  even  these  are  very  small  ;  and 
the  remainder,  which  seem  to  break  and  vary  the  surface  of  its  dark  waters,  are, 
with  few  exceptions,  mere  groups  of  rock.  On  Saint's  island  are  the  remnants 
of  a  priory.  This  island,  in  remote  ages,  was  the  resort  of  pilgrims,  and  con- 
tained the  original  Patrick's  Purgatory.  The  place  of  the  penance  is  now,  and 
has  been  for  several  centuries,  on  Station  Island,  which  is  half  a  mile  from  the 
shore  of  the  lake.  It  is  less  than  an  acre  in  extent,  and  contains,  in  addition 
to  two  small  chapels,  one  of  which  is  appropriated  to  penitents,  a  house  for  the 
officiating  priests,  and  a  few  cabins.  In  spite  of  the  prohibitory  edicts  of 
several  of  the  popes  and  orders  of  the  Irish  privy  council  in  former  days  for 
its  suppression,  it  has  maintained  its  celebrity  ;  and  the  numbers  who  still  an- 
nually flock  hither  to  expiate  their  offences,  from  the  1st  of  June  to  the  15th 
of  August,  are  variously  stated  at  from  ten  to  fifteen  thousand.  One  thing  is 
certain  that  the  ferry  which  was  long  rented  at  £300  per  annum,  now  pays 
XI 60."— Fraser's  Hand  Book,  p.  532. 

"  On  the  pilgrims  first  landing  in  the  island,  they  pay  a  toll  of  sixpence  half- 
penny each  to  the  prior  for  the  right  to  land.  They  are  then  taken  to  a  corner 
of  the  island,  where  a  roughly  made  stone  cross,  with  some  almost  obliterated 
figures  carved  upon  it  is  elevated .  Round  this  is  a  pathway  of  small  sharp  stones, 
which  seemed  tracked  by  being  walked  over.  Round  this  cross,  the  pilgrims  are 
made  to  walk  barefoot  nine  times,  repeating  a  number  of  prayers.  They  are  thea 
ushered  into  the  largest  chapel,  which  is  called  the  '  prison/  where  they  must 
fast  and  pray  through  the  whole  of  the  first  night  of  their  landing.  They  are 
warned  against  falling  asleep,  as  they  are  taught  that  to  do  so  will  bring  on  them 
the  displeasure  of  God,  and  will  be  punished  with  purgatory  The  morn- 
ing after  the  pilgrim's  arrival,  he  or  she  has  to  confess  to  one  of  the  priests — a 
shilling  fee  is  charged  for  the  confession,  though  often  more  is  given.  Then 

comes  the  performance  of  penances  The  pilgrims,  for  one  penance,  are 

made  to  walk  nine  times  round  the  pathway  round  the  cross,  barefooted,  over 
sharp  stones ;  and,  according  to  their  penance,  they  are  made  to  walk  or 
crawl  a  certain  number  of  times  on  their  bare  knees,  men  and  women — round 
the  outside  of  the  circular  erection  of  stone3." — Condition  of  the  people  op 
Ireland,  p.  82. 


PAUPERISM   OF   MOUNT  SHANNON. 


313 


ings  even  of  Protestants,  in  our  own  country,  to  admonish 
me  to  deal  charitably  with  a  weak  brother,  on  whose  soul 
still  sits  the  incubus  of  misbelief  and  superstition.  "  Lord, 
help  thou  our  unbelief." 

This  border  of  the  lake  is  exceedingly  beautiful.  The 
ground  ascends  gradually  from  the  water's  edge,  up  Slieve 
Aughta,  till  it  attains  the  height  of  more  than  one  thousand 
feet,  at  the  distance  of  three  or  four  miles.  The  hills  trend 
off  westward,  in  rich,  swelling  slopes,  and  are  covered  with 
pasture-fields,  and  their  bases  dotted  over  with  cottages,  the 
size  and  character  of  which,  from  this  distance,  are  not 
discernible,  but  appear  remarkably  pleasant,  as  if  the 
abodes  of  plenty  and  contentment.  I  was  just  now  giving 
vent  to  my  admiration  of  this  grand  landscape,  when  the 
gentleman  before  alluded  to  cooled  my  enthusiasm,  by  in- 
forming me  that  there  is  scarcely  a  place  in  all  Ireland 
where  the  people  are  so  completely  destitute  and  wretched. 

Soon  after,  an  other  gentleman  was  introduced  to  me, 
who  is  coming  from  Limerick,  to  distribute  a  quantity  of 
Indian  meal,  and  other  provisions,  among  the  inhabitants 
of  Mount  Shannon  who  are  in  a  state  of  penury  and  star- 
vation. He  assures  me  he  has  been  there  frequently,  on  the 
same  errand  of  mercy,  in  behalf  of  a  society  of  Friends, 
and  that,  although  a  county  richer  in  the  sources  of  plenty 
and  comfort  can  scarcely  be  found,  the  welfare  of  the  peo- 
ple has  been  so  grossly  neglected,  that  no  scenes  of  desti- 
tution more  complete  can  be  seen  in  any  part  of  the 
kingdom.  The  people  are  ignorant,  the  lands  neglected, 
on  account  of  exorbitant  rents,  and  the  cruelty  of  the  land- 
lord's agent,  so  that  there  is  neither  motive  nor  means  for 
improvement. 

Before  landing,  he  invited  us  to  accompany  him  to 
Mount  Shannon,  and  one  of  our  party  accepted  the  invita- 
tion, with  whom  we  have  just  parted.  For  myself,  I  have 
no  longer  a  heart  to  look  upon  the  squalor  of  this  wretched 
population,  while  1  lack  the  means  to  afford  them  relief.  I 
have  seen  enough  of  their  misery,  heard  enough  of  their 

27 


314 


A   NOIJLE  FAMILY. 


wrongs,  felt  enough  of  suppressed  anger  towards  the  aris- 
tocrats, who  live  in  great  pomp  on  the  blood  and  sweat  of 
this  wretched  people,  by  royal  right,  as  if  God  had  made 
them  better  than  others.    Right  here,  we  are  passing  a 
splendid  mansion,  surrounded  by  all  the  tokens  of  wealth 
and  pride  ;  and  gayly  dressed  ladies  are  standing  upon  the 
shore,  under  wide-spreading  shade  trees,  waving  their  ker- 
chiefs to  us  as  we  pass.    This  is  an  Irish  family,  I  am  told, 
but  one  of  those  formerly  bought  into  the  English  interest 
by  the  gift  of  a  large  tract  of  land  and  several  thousand 
pounds  in  ready  money,  which  has  kept  the  descendants 
loyal  ever  since,  and  ready  to  carry  forward  the  war  of  exter- 
mination against  the  wretched  peasantry  of  this  part  of 
Galway  county.    But  how  a  family,  of  cultivated  minds 
and  christian  hearts,  can  be  satisfied  to  live  as  they  do,  in 
the  midst  of  beggary  and  ignorance,  made  so  and  kept  so 
by  their  own  will  and  neglect,  it  is  easy  to  inquire.    I  am 
told,  this  is  a  Christian  family,  well  educated  in  all  the 
blandishments  of  fashionable  life,  and  greatly  respected  in 
a  wide  circle  of  notable  families  of  the  nobility  and  gentry, 
both  here  and  in  England ;  but  how  they  can  be  happy,  or 
endure  to  live  with  the  wrongs  and  evils  of  their  position 
and  neglect  so  obvious  all  about  them,  is  more  than  I  can 
comprehend.    It  would  seem  that  the  first  breathing  of  a 
Christian  heart  would  be  to  seek  out  a  remedy  for  the  mise- 
ry about  them,  to  clothe,  and  feed,  and  educate  these  ne- 
glected children,  to  teach  the  parents  how  to  manage  their 
patches  of  ground  to  the  best  advantage,  to  slacken  the 
stringency  of  the  rents,  tithes,  and  taxes,  to  give  them  ex- 
amples of  justice,  industry,  and  benevolence,  and  so  begin  a 
work  of  mercy  and  reform,  which  would  secure  for  them  the 
poor  man's  blessing  and  the  orphan's  prayer.    They  surely 
can  not  be  wanting  in  the  adequate  knowledge  to  begin 
such  a  scheme  of  improvement,  for  they  have  Bibles,  and 
can  read  them  ;  they  have  eyes,  and  must  see ;  hearts,  and 
ought  to  feel ;  or  else  they  ought  to  renounce  the  name  of 


CHRISTIAN  REQUIREMENTS. 


315 


Christian,  and  turn  infidel  to  all  the  claims  of  a  common 
humanity. 

I  am  told  the  family  living  here  are,  personally,  remarka- 
bly handsome  ;  that  the  young  ladies,  especially,  are  re- 
nowned for  their  fine  forms  and  beautiful  faces.  Be  it  so, 
what  does  it  all  avail  if  there  are  wanting  the  mind  and 
heart — the  moral  beauty,  to  correspond  ?  The  gay,  and 
thoughtless,  and  unprincipled  may  admire,  and  applaud,  and 
flatter,  and  betray.  But  true  beauty,  like  true  greatness, 
comes  from  a  pure  heart,  and  shows  itself  by  acts  of  good- 
ness, and  words  of  wisdom.  God  looks  upon  the  heart, 
judges  motives,  and  bestows  happiness — the  reward  of 
merit — only  where  it  is  deserved.  Personal  beauty  is 
always  to  be  admired,  but  never  praised,  except  as  God's 
gift.  To  appear  well,  the  possessor  should  always  be  un- 
conscious of  the  possession. 

A  fearful  responsibility  rests  upon  those  whose  social  po- 
sition and  ability  afford  such  a  favorable  opportunity  to 
labor  for  the  temporal  and  spiritual  good  of  others.  And, 
as  God  reigns,  a  day  of  reckoning  will  come,  when  the 
rich,  and  wise,  and  powerful,  shall  be  held  to  account  for 
their  treatment  of  the  poor,  and  weak,  and  ignorant,  who 
have  suffered  at  their  hands.  God's  word  is  full  of  instruc- 
tion upon  these  points,  both  in  the  Old  and  in  the  New  Testa- 
ments ;  and  I  marvel  that  a  strong  nation,  whose  Queen  is 
the  head  of  the  Church,  does  no  more  to  relieve  the  op- 
pressed and  guide  the  ignorant ;  that  a  church,  whose  Pon- 
tiff is  God's  vicegerent  on  earth,  has  no  more  affection  for 
its  children  than  to  let  them  starve,  while  its  dignitaries 
live  in  splendor,  and  devote  their  principal  attention  to 
forms  of  faith  and  gorgeous  processions  ;  and  that  a  gen- 
try which  boasts  of  its  gallantry,  and  intelligence,  and  reli- 
gion, are  perfectly  case-hardened,  that  the  wail  of  their 
starving  tenantry  awakens  no  feeling  of  humanity  in  their 
breasts.  In  this  age  of  reform,  and  progress,  and  exten- 
sive benevolent  operations,  while  sea  and  land  are  tra- 
versed to  convert  the  heathen  and  proselyte  schismatics, 


316 


MISAPPLIED  PHILANTHROPY. 


and  thousands  and  millions  poured  out  annually,  to  carry 
forward  the  works  of  benevolence,  that  Ireland  is  so  sadly 
neglected,  and  thousands  of  her  children  dying  of  starva- 
tion every  year,  while  the  land  is  less  than  half  cultivated. 
We  live  in  an  anomalous  age.  Great  Britain  gives,  annuali y, 
nearly  fifty  million  of  dollars  for  the  support  of  its  established 
clergy,  and  more  than  all  other  Christian  nations  put  to- 
gether, while  the  ratio  of  hearers  attending  its  ministry,  as 
compared  with  others,  is  as  one  to  thirty-two  !  Much  of 
this  immense  revenue  is  derived  by  tithes  obtained  from 
those  who,  from  conscience,  refuse  to  hear  its  preaching ; 
and  not  an  inconsiderable  portion  is  wrenched  from  the 
poor  starved  tenants,  by  the  distraining  process,  after  pay- 
ing their  own  clergy.  Besides  this,  thousands  are  spent 
annually  for  missionary,  and  other  benevolent  operations,  in 
foreign  lands,  while  a  million  of  their  own  people,  whom 
they  are  bound,  by  every  legal  and  moral  obligation,  to 
protect,  are  dying  for  want  of  the  commonest  necessaries 
of  life  at  home,  and  often  unprovided  with  a  decent  burial. 
England  is  conquering  the  Sikhs,  humbling  the  Chinese, 
contending  about  barren  mountains  on  the  borders  of  the 
Pacific,  sending  expeditions  to  explore  the  North-west 
Passage,  and  buying  up  West  Indian  negroes,  for  liberty, 
but  the  starving  poor  of  Galway  are  left  to  the  tender  mer- 
cies of  the  agents  of  bankrupt  landlords !  England  boasts 
of  her  power,  and  wealth,  and  honor,  and  nobleness,  and 
Christianity,  and  benevolence,  and  wisdom,  and  yet  can  not 
find  out  how  to  remedy  the  evils  of  Ireland  !    Marvellous  ! 

We  have  just  passed  the  island  of  Illuanmore,  in  the 
center  of  this  lake,  near  enough  to  see  some  old  ruins, 
which  we  are  told  are  the  remains  of  a  church  abbey, 
built  in  the  7th  century,  by  Saint  Comir,  and  that  several 
ecclesiastics,  celebrated  for  their  zeal  and  learning,  for- 
merly resided  here.  The  island  is  as  beautifully  situated 
as  ever,  but  it  no  longer  bears  the  marks  of  industry  and 
thrift,  if  ever  it  did.  I  do  not  wonder  that  these  ignorant 
people  look  with  despondency  upon  the  beautiful  spots  in 


INEFFICIENT  MEANS. 


317 


their  country,  rendered  sacred  by  the  superstitions  of  their 
religion,  and  curse  the  foreign  invaders  who  laid  them 
waste.  It  is  one  of  the  most  natural  things  in  the  world, 
that  they  should  revert  to  the  past,  and  garnish,  by  the  help 
of  imagination,  the  freedom  and  glory  of  the  blissful  age  of 
their  ancestors,  in  the  gaudiest  colors  ;  and,  by  contrast 
with  the  present  miserable  reality,  become  enraged  against 
those  who  oppress  them.  The  acts  of  the  British  govern- 
ment have  not  been  such  as  to  heal  the  wound,  by  enlight- 
ening their  understandings,  and  winning  their  hearts  to  ap- 
prove and  love  a  better  order  of  things.  We  have  had  the 
experiment  of  extermination  in  our  own  country,  pursuing 
the  English  plan.  The  natives  of  America  loved  their 
homes,  the  graves  of  their  fathers,  and  their  hunting 
grounds,  and  wreaked  their  vengeance,  to  the  extent  of 
their  power,  in  cruel  murders.  The  native  Irish  are  above 
them,  in  many  respects,  and  more  capable  of  reform  and 
progress.  By  intercourse,  intermarriages,  religious  influ- 
ence, and  proper  treatment,  many  have  become  distin- 
guished, and  all  might  be  made  industrious,  moral,  and 
happy.  Nothing  has  been  done  to  beget  love  or  respect, 
but  every  thing  to  irritate,  produce  jealousy,  and  excite 
revenge.  Their  liberties  have  been  assailed,  their  religion 
repudiated,  and  their  homes  invaded,  and  they  compelled, 
by  taxes,  to  support  the  government  that  oppresses,  and 
by  rents,  the  lords  who  impoverish  them.  They  look 
upon  this  beautiful  island,  and  see  its  abbeys  in  ruins,  its 
cloisters  forsaken  of  the  reverend  men  of  God  who  dwelt 
in  them,  while  the  graves  of  their  ancestors,  who  sleep  in 
its  extensive  burying  grounds,  call  to  them  for  redress. 
They  see  no  common  schools,  no  free  churches,  nor  en- 
lightened and  happy  population,  coming  up  in  their  places ; 
and  they  are  sad,  and  unreconciled,  and  restless  ;  and  who 
can  wonder  ?  They  see  as  much  pride  and  splendor  as  in 
feudal  times,  while  there  is  no  chieftain  to  arm  and  protect 
them  as  his  vassals,  but  landlords  to  treat  them  as  serfs. 
Alas,  for  poor  Ireland  ;  thy  social  wrongs  are  many  and 

27* 


318 


PORTUMNA. 


great,  and  far  off  is  the  day  when  thou  shalt  be  able  to  re- 
move them  ! 

As  we  proceed  towards  the  head  of  the  lake,  the  shores 
are  curved,  and  varied,  and  beautiful ;  adorned  (?)  with 
some  handsome  seats  ;  presenting  many  beautiful  land- 
scapes, of  hills,  vales,  bays,  creeks,  and  headlands,  but  every 
where  tarnished  with  pictures  of  human  misery.  Wide 
plains  sweep  off  towards  the  north  and  east,  from  which 
arise,  here  and  there,  rounded  pastoral  hills,  which  add 
greatly  to  the  beauty  of  the  scenery.  A  narrow  bay 
sweeps  off  to  the  north-east,  towards  Parsonstown,  the  re- 
sidence of  Lord  Ross,  of  telescopic  notoriety.  Before 
reaching  Portumna,  the  principal  port  at  this  end  of  the 
lake,  the  shores  become  flat  and  uninteresting,  but  hills  in 
the  distance,  and  ruined  castles,  are  still  to  be  seen.  On 
our  left,  we  passed  the  charming  grounds  of  the  Marquis 
Clancaricade,  whose  elegant  castle  was  burned  some 
years  ago,  the  naked  wralls  of  which  still  stand,  a  massive 
modern  ruin.  The  house  still  occupied  by  the  family  is 
grand  enough  for  any  gentleman  of  moderate  pretensions. 
The  castle  itself,  I  am  told,  was  formerly  one  of  the  grand- 
est in  this  part  of  the  kingdom.  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt 
it,  for  the  long  line  of  little,  low  mud  cabins,  such  as  some- 
times ornament  our  railways  where  deep  excavations  are 
to  be  made,  and  the  squalor  of  the  poor  creatures  we  saw 
about  them,  are  a  sufficient  proof,  in  addition  to  the  exten- 
sive ruins  and  splendid  grounds.  The  glory  of  a  military 
chieftain  is  in  the  number  of  his  fellow-beings  he  has  slain 
in  battle,  like  the  notches  in  the  Indian's  wrar-club ;  the 
measure  of  riches  is  the  comparison  with  surrounding  po- 
verty ;  and  the  pride  of  a  landlord  is  the  amount  he  can 
extort  from  the  squalid  dependents  about  him — but  the  re- 
ward of  the  good  man  is  the  relief  he  affords  to  suffering 
humanity. 

Portumna,  itself,  lies  a  mile  or  so  from  the  river.  It 
was  once  a  place  of  some  business.  It  has  a  church,  Ca- 
tholic chapel,  the  ruins  of  a  priory,  and  a  mass  of  miserable 


CROMWELL  S  CASTLE. 


319 


huts,  with  scarcely  a  decent  building  among  them,  all  be- 
longing to  the  barony  of  Clancaricade,  together  with  an 
extensive  tract  of  country,  the  gift  of  one  of  the  Henrys 
to  a  French  family  of  De  Bergs,  who  still  inherit  it ;  so 
that  even  Frenchmen  are  involved  in  the  disgrace  of  Ire- 
land. French  families  are  scattered  all  about  the  island, 
who  were  introduced  into  handsome  estates  by  the  English 
crown,  in  payment  for  their  adhesion  to  the  particular  in- 
terests of  different  sovereigns,  who  found  their  services  of 
great  value  in  aiding  them  in  the  maintenance  of  their  claims 
to  the  British  throne.  Ireland  has  been  the  pay  ground  of 
English,  Scotch,  and  French  sycophants,  for  several  centu- 
ries, and  their  patents  remain  to  the  present  day.  Among  all 
the  titles,  Cromwell's  are  the  best.  He  made  most  tho- 
rough work,  and  his  name  is  a  by-word  still,  suggesting  the 
greatest  terror  to  tenants  and  to  children.  It  takes  the 
form  of  an  oath,  and  I  often  hear  the  people  use  the  "  curse 
of  Crumwill"  as  the  strongest  and  most  violent  expression 
of  disapprobation  they  can  utter. 

On  a  point  of  land  formed  by  the  river  and  an  arm  of 
the  lake,  extending  off  to  the  east,  is  Bellisle,  the  residence 
of  Lord  Avonmore,  and  immediately  upon  the  water's  edge 
the  ruins  of  Cromwell's  Castle.  This  was  one  of  the  out- 
posts of  Protestantism,  where  the  minions  of  the  Protector 
were  set  to  keep  watch  over  the  Catholics  whom  he  had 
driven  into  Connaught,  from  whence  they  could  not  escape 
but  at  the  peril  of  their  lives.  The  rest  he  had  driven  to 
the  Continent,  shipped  to  the  West  Indies,  or  compelled  to 
keep  secreted  in  the  mountain  glens  of  Munster.  The 
more  rapacious  crew  which  accompanied  the  restoration 
and  ministered  to  the  corrupt  and  profligate  habits  of  the 
second  Charles,  did  not  rest  here.  The  confiscation  of  the 
estates  Cromwell  had  bestowed  upon  his  favorites  were  in- 
sufficient to  satisfy  the  more  hungry  herd,  and  the  fair  fields 
of  Connaught  were  seized  and  divided  among  the  mean  set 
who  were  manufactured  into  lords  and  noblemen  by  these 
robberies,  which  were  entailed  in  perpetuity.    Thus  har- 


320 


SHANNON  BRIDGE. 


rassed  in  the  narrow  fold  into  which  they  had  been  driven, 
they  broke  out. and  spread  over  the  depopulated  parts  of  the 
island,  but  in  the  character  of  subordinates,  tenants  upon 
the  lands  once  theirs,  which  they  hired,  by  leases  when  they 
could,  promising  fealty  to  the  intruders.  Where  leases 
could  not  be  obtained,  they  were  compelled  to  serve  in  anv 
capacity,  according  to  the  dictates  of  their  new  oppressors. 
The  plan  of  Cromwell  was  to  regenerate  the  whole  island, 
and  make  it,  at  once,  an  integral  part  of  the  empire,  purelv 
English  in  religion,  politics,  and  people.  The  subsequent 
governments  treated  it  as  a  conquered  country,  permitting 
a  show  of  nationality,  to  humor  the  pride  of  its  nobles,  and 
hoping  to  derive  more  benefit  from  it  in  that  way.  This 
new  arrangement  rendered  these  border  castles  useless,  and 
they  soon  fell  into  neglect  and  ruin. 

Just  above  Bellisle  and  Portumna  we  came  to  a  splendid 
stone  bridge  over  the  Shannon.  It  is  a  superb  work,  built 
in  the  most  thorough  manner.  The  stone,  of  which  it  is 
constructed,  were  quarried  from  a  bluff  on  the  shore  near 
by.  The  piers  are  firm  and  massive,  the  road- way  level 
and  broad,  and  the  balustrades  finished  in  a  tasteful  man- 
ner. A  wide  draw,  of  the  most  approved  plan,  opens  a 
passway  for  boats,  without  lowering  their  masts.  We  have 
few  such  substantial  works  in  our  country.  Some  of  the 
bridges  on  the  Erie  canal,  especially  that  at  Rochester,  will 
compare  with  it  respectably.  We  are  a  new  country,  and 
with  us  every  thing  was  formerly  done  with  respect  to  pre- 
sent need  irrespective  of  the  future.  As  we  have  grown 
older,  more  able  and  wise,  we  are  giving  more  attention 
to  permanence  and  beauty  ;  so  that  when  we  arrive  at  the 
age  of  our  father-land  we  may  hope  to  show  works  of  equal 
grandeur: — Ay,  too,  and  before.  We  may  never  build 
feudal  castles,  massive  abbeys,  extravagant  cathedrals  and 
convents,  but,  inspired  by  the  motives  of  true  utility  we 
have  already  undertaken  and  accomplished,  some  works 
which  would  do  honor  to  any  age  or  nation.  They  are 
monuments  of  good  judgment  and  of  republican  equality. 


REDWOOD  CASTLE. 


321 


They  speak  for  the  whole.  If  they  do  not  awaken  the  feel- 
ing of  superstition  and  reverence,  they  do  not  offend  the 
sentiments  of  philanthropy,  as  the  ancient  monuments  of 
exclusiveness  we  meet  with  here.  But  great  changes  we 
are  happy  to  see  in  the  movements  of  the  Old  World,  which 
strike  us  more  forcibly  from  the  deep  contrast  in  which 
they  appear.  Bridges  and  roads,  which,  for  completeness, 
surpass  any  thing  we  can  boast,  are  for  the  general  good, 
and  even  the  barracks,  and  jails,  and  work-houses,  the  re- 
maining signs  of  improvement,  are  not  emblems  of  feudal- 
ism, but  of  ideas  more  gregarious  and  universal  than  those 
which  marked  the  centuries  past.  There  is  hope  yet,  that 
a  broader  spirit  of  humanity  will,  step  by  step,  take  off 
the  burdens  of  oppression,  and  elevate  the  down-trodden 
to  a  higher  rank  in  the  scale  and  opportunities  of  social  life. 

This  is  the  station  of  the  company  having  the  exclusive 
navigation  of  the  Shannon,  where  they  exchange  boats, 
and  tranship  passengers  and  freight,  from  those  of  larger 
size  plying  on  the  lake,  to  those  fitted  to  run  upon  the  shoal 
water  of  the  upper  river.  Quays  and  harbors  have  been 
built  for  the  accommodation  of  these  boats,  and  several 
store-houses  and  coal-yards  for  the  use  of  the  company. 
Several  hands  are  employed  here,  who  live  in  a  small  vil- 
lage on  the  east  bank  of  the  river.  The  lofty  ruins  of 
Redwood  castle  still  support  their  crumbling  turrets,  and 
look,  with  a  sullen  frown,  upon  these  changes  and  encroach- 
ments of  modern  times.  Never  mirid,  old  tower  of  feudal- 
ism, and  Puritan  fury  ;  thou  hast  had  thy  day  of  glory, 
and  'tis  passed.  Another  generation  has  come  to  toil,  and 
suffer,  and  weep,  drinking  the  dregs  of  the  cup  thou  didst 
mingle  for  them.  The  noise  of  mirth  and  revelry,  while 
thou  standest,  would  be  like  a  merry  song  in  a  charnel 
house.  The  wrongs  which  reared  thee,  this  century  can 
not  forget.  But  thou,  and  the  memory  of  thee,  shall  pass 
away,  and  a  better  day  will  come.  Ah !  shake  thy  grim 
locks,  and  thou  wilt,  at  the  clang  and  jostling  of  these  new 
inventions,  as  the  rushing  steam  goes  whizzing  and  whirring 


322 


THE   INFLUENCE   OF  TIME. 


from  its  pent-up  prison,  where  it  has  been  doing  good  ser- 
vice ;  and  these  passengers  and  goods  are  hurried  at  un- 
wonted speed,  over  this  handsome  bridge,  which  claims  lit- 
tle affinity  to  thee  or  thine !  Ay,  fret,  and  eke  out  a  croco- 
dile tear,  if  thou  canst,  to  wet  thy  withered,  blackened  face, 
and  show  pity  for  thy  rebellious  children  !  These  arts  and 
improvements  for  social  intercourse  assail  thy  destiny, 
with  surer  success,  and  will  sooner  topple  thy  turrets  down, 
than  Ludlow's  cannon,  or  O'Connel's  Repeal.  Stand  there, 
ignoble  monument  of  a  tyrannical,  selfish,  and  inglorious  age ! 
Thou  art  no  more  than  the  mausoleum  of  the  chieftains 
and  the  chivalry  which  reared  them.  Thy  serfs  are  waiting 
for  freedom.  Many  have  gone  to  the  home  of  liberty  al- 
ready, though  many  still  remain  to  delve  yet  longer  amid 
the  ruin  thou  hast  seen  wrought.  Ah,  turn  not  thy  sunken 
eye  in  deathly  stare  upon  me.  Thou  canst  not  frighten  a 
child  of  freedom  !  Cease  thy  mutterings,  old  toothless  tower, 
for  they  but  increase  my  abhorence,  and  I  laugh  at  the  fool- 
ish frolics  of  thy  dotage.  Better  give  all  thy  attention 
to  the  nursing  of  thy  sickly  sons,  who,  like  the  last — the 
teatman  of  a  puny  race,  half  scorned  of  himself  for  his 
imbecility,  still  clings  to  the  shadow  of  feudal  chivalry,  and 
plays  the  lord  under  thy  crumbling  walls  !  He  needs  all 
thy  concern,  lest  the  spreading  spirit  of  justice  and  philan- 
thropy sweep  away  the  cobwebs  of  aristocracy,  and  reduce 
every  man  to  his  proper  level.  Farewell  to  thee,  old  Red- 
wood !  A  yankee  has  looked  at  thy  dingy  walls,  and  left 
for  thee  a  prophecy,  that,  ere  this  century  closes,  thou  and 
the  institutions  that  fostered  thee  shall  lie  as  low  as  this 
broad  level  now  before  me  ! 

The  boat  to  which  we  are  transferred,  is  a  long  narrow 
craft,  much  like  a  canal  boat,  with  a  smoke  pipe  in  the  cen- 
tre, and  wheels  on  the  sides.  The  deck  is  about  even  with 
the  surface,  and  back  of  the  pipe  a  room  is  built  up  for  a 
cabin,  over  which  we  pass  from  the  forward,  or  main  deck, 
to  get  into  it.  A  walk  three  feet  wide,  with  a  railing,  is 
built  for  that  purpose,  with  one  or  two  latteral  jets,  where 


THE   UPPER  SHANNON. 


323 


one  can  step  aside  for  an  other  to  pass.  The  cabin  is  a  very 
plain  affair,  having  windows  on  each  side,  and  furnished  with 
several  small  tables  for  the  use  of  such  as  wish  to  eat  or 
drink.  A  small  cook  room,  at  the  entrance,  does  not  add 
much  to  the  comfort  of  one's  olfactories,  unless  he  be  hun- 
gry and  has  money,  and  then  the  tedium  of  preparation 
well  nigh  destroys  his  appetite.  But  if  the  eight  or  ten  pas- 
sengers we  have  is  a  sample  of  the  amount  of  travel,  the 
"  Inland  Company"  can  not  afford  to  furnish  better  accom- 
modations. The  stewardess  did  her  best  to  give  us  a  com- 
fortable dinner,  for  which  she  did  not  forget  to  ask  a  pretty 
large  price,  and  the  "little  something"  for  herself,  besides, 
to  which  last,  of  course,  we  could  not  object,  it  being  the 
fashion  of  the  country.  But  who  would  honor  such  a  de- 
mand on  our  boats.  But  here  a  man  must  "  be  hanged  and 
pay  a  forty  shilling." 

The  country,  this  side  the  bridge,  becomes  flat  and 
swampy.  The  shores  are  low,  barely  rising  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  and  vast  prairies  sweep  off  on  both  sides, 
much  in  the  fashion  of  the  bottom  lands  on  the  banks  of 
our  western  rivers.  These  extensive  flats  afford  grazing 
for  large  herds  of  cattle  and  sheep,  which  are  now  scattered 
over  them,  but  are  not  capable  of  cultivation.  In  winter, 
I  am  told,  they  are  covered  to  the  depth  of  two  or  three 
feet,  when  all  this  region  looks  like  a  vast  lake.  The  river 
is  narrow,  crooked  and  deep,  about  the  size  of  the  Raritan, 
with  bold  shores  and  a  sluggish  current.  Occasionally  a 
point  of  elevated  land  comes  down  to  the  river  from  the 
distant  hills,  which  is  cultivated,  and  contains  a  few  misera- 
ble dwellings.  But  there  is  something  attractive  in  the  still- 
ness of  this  broad  level,  for  it  is  well  to  go  into  retirement 
occasionally,  and  give  space  for  reflection  where  there  is  no 
object  but  God  higher  than  one's  self.  A  deep  solemnity  is 
breathed  around,  and  a  fearful  sense  of  responsibility 
awakened,  which  stirs  the  inmost  feelings  of  the  soul  and 
makes  one  feel  conscious  of  his  dependence,  and  grateful 
for  his  sources  of  enjoyment.    In  this  country  especially, 


324 


VICTORIA  LOCK. 


where  the  heart  is  pained  at  the  sight  of  wrong,  oppression 
and  crime,  this  scene  of  unabused  nature  affords  relief.  It 
reminds  me  forcibly  of  the  vast  prairies  in  our  western  coun- 
try, as  a  poor  miniature  will  awaken  love  for  an  absent 
friend.  But  there  is  a  bleakness  and  barrenness  about  the 
boggy  portions  of  this  flat  area  which  have  no  correspond- 
ence in  our  prairies  ;  and  the  distant  heathy  hills  do  not 
compare  well  with  their  rolling  undulations  and  skirting 
forests. 

In  the  midst  of  this  monotonous  scenery  there  stood  the 
ruined  walls  of  an  old  castle,  which  appear  like  a  scav 
upon  the  smooth  face  of  an  uninteresting  countenance.  Si- 
lent, solemn,  lonely,  they  stand  there,  patiently  enduring  the 
mockery  of  the  passing  age,  and  muttering,  like  a  toothless 
octogenarian,  rebukes  and  prophecies  of  evil  over  the  ex- 
travagance and  radicalism  of  the  present  generation. 
Some  misanthropic  squire,  whose  feats  of  chivalry  won 
not  the  hand  of  his  lady-love,  must  have  chosen  this  lone- 
some spot  to  hermitize  himself  from  the  varied  pleasures 
of  social  life,  and  bemoan  the  tedium  of  life's  ebbing  cur- 
rent, as  he  watched  the  lazy  movements  of  this  sluggish 
stream,  meandering  reluctantly  towards  its  ocean  home. 
Or,  else,  the  sturdy  Protestant,  fearing  the  level  of  equal 
toleration,  put  up  this  castle  to  hold  the  persecuted  Catho- 
lic at  bay,  in  his  narrow  dominions,  and  show  the  strength 
of  Saxon  power  to  crush  the  liberty  and  destrov  the 
rights  of  his  Celtic  brother.  No  matter;  it  has  had  its 
day;  served  its  time  ;  fulfilled  its  mission,  and  gone  into 
min.  The  world  has  no  longer  any  need  of  it.  It  is  va- 
luable only  as  a  tombstone  of  the  past — a  monument  of 
what  was. 

An  hour,  at  a  lazy  pace,  and  we  are  at  the  "  Victoria 
lock,"  through  which  we  have  just  passed.  It  is  a  mag- 
nificent work.  Like  the  bridge  before  noticed,  it  is  built  of 
huge  blocks  of  lime-stone,  put  together  in  the  most  thorough 
and  finished  style.  I  do  not  know  the  dimensions,  but  judge 
it  must  be  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  twenty-five  wide, 


MARTELLO  TOWER. 


325 


and  eighteen  deep.  It  is  sufficient  to  raise  our  steamboat 
eight  feet.  It  was  thought,  by  its  projectors,  to  be  worthy 
of  the  Queen's  name,  which  is  sculptured  upon  each  side 
of  it,  and  is  said  to  surpass  any  other  of  the  kind  in  the 
kingdom,  beins;  little  inferior  to  the  celebrated  locks  into 
the  docks  at  Liverpool.  The  operation  of  locking  through 
it  is  the  same  as  on  our  canals,  and  is  done  with  equal  ex- 
pedition. In  size  it  may  not  equal  the  locks  on  the  Ohio, 
at  Louisville,  but  in  style  it  is  vastly  superior. 

Xot  far  from  the  lock,  on  one  of  the  low  islands  formed 
by  the  branching  of  the  river,  is  a  Martello  tower,  of  mo- 
dern erection,  designed  for  some  military  purpose,  I  sup- 
pose, for  the  ,;dogs  of  war"  are  mounted  upon  the  summit 
of  its  walls.  It  does  not  look  like  a  very  formidable  affair, 
but  is  sufficient  to  overawe  the  "  natives"  and  keep  them 
in  subjection.  The  government  surely  can  not  fear  that 
the  marine  of  an  invading  foe  will  ever  penetrate  so  far 
into  the  interior  of  this  country ;  and  if  it  should,  this  lock 
is  a  better  barrier  than  a  dozen  cannon,  ever  so  well 
manned.  I  am  not  able  to  comprehend  the  design  of  such 
a  fortification,  in  such  a  place.  There  are  a  thousand 
places  where  the  river  can  be  passed,  as  well  as  here. 
When  I  first  saw  it,  I  thought  it  must  be  a  light-house. 
But  these  dark  lanterns,  pointing  over  the  wall,  can  not  be 
designed  to  guide  and  save  men  from  shipwreck,  but  to 
alarm,  and  subdue,  and  kill — fit  emblem  of  England's  policy 
towards  her  own  subjects,  at  home  and  abroad. 

Beyond  the  tower,  on  the  Galway  shore,  the  ruins  of 
Meelick  Abbey  were  pointed  out  to  us,  which  indicate  a 
building  of  large  size  and  considerable  splendor.  The  low 
lands  are  here  cultivated,  and  large  meadows  of  luxuriant 
grass  indicate  their  fertility.  Detached  hills  are  seen  in 
the  distance,  and  plateaus  of  elevated  ground  between 
them  and  the  river,  approaching,  in  some  places,  near  to  it. 
A  small  stream  comes  in  from  the  east,  up  which  we  see 
some  handsome  grounds,  a  small  hamlet,  and  one  of  the 
oldest  inhabited  castles  in  the  kingdom,  formerly  beloncnno 

28 


32G 


A   SWEET  SPOT. 


to  the  Mac  Coghlers,  but  now  occupied  by  one  of  the 
O'Mores,  some  connexion  of  "  Rory,"  perhaps,  for  Chris- 
tians, in  this  land,  "give  heed  to  endless  genealogies." 
The  situation  is  very  beautiful,  and,  if  I  lived  there,  I 
should  dislike,  exceedingly,  to  have  my  "dhrames  always 
go  by  conthraries." 

The  branch  up  which  we  are  sailing  is  little  more,  in  ap- 
pearance, than  a  canal.  The  banks  are  low,  and  the  chan- 
nel so  narrow  one  can  almost  leap  from  the  boat  to  the 
shore.  Several  small  green  islets  are  scattered  about  care- 
lessly, among  which  we  wind  on  our  way.  What  adds 
much  to  the  beauty  of  one  lonely  spot  we  are  passing,  and 
affords  relief  to  the  general  nakedness  of  the  country,  is 
a  beautiful  copse  of  trees  which  skirt  the  northern  border, 
beyond  which,  on  a  gently  rising  ground,  is  a  splendid  man- 
sion, with  a  green  lawn  in  front,  extending  some  twenty 
rods  to  the  water,  with  richly  decorated  gardens  on  the 
side  beyond.  A  sweet  little  island,  studded  with  trees,  and 
entangled  with  shrubs  and  vines,  in  rich  profusion,  gives  it 
a  wild  and  romantic  appearance,  and  I  can  almost  fancy  I 
am  in  my  own  native  land.  A  most  lovely  spot ;  of  all 
others,  just  the  place  I  should  choose,  was  I  to  live  in  Ire- 
land. It  is  beautiful :  but  not  for  that  would  I  choose  it ; 
for  there  are  many  others  as  enchanting  about  the  Killar- 
ney  lakes,  and  along  the  Lower  Shannon,  and  on  the  bor- 
ders of  the  sea.  But  this  is  so  isolated  from  the  sight  and 
hearing  of  misery,  that  I  do  actually  feel  relief  as  I  pass  it, 
to  find  that  there  is  a  spot  in  this  fated  land  where  one 
can  hide  away  from  the  wail  of  poverty  and  suffering. 
The  flat  moors  and  meadows  all  around  are  so  vast  that 
no  cry  can  sweep  across  them ;  and  he  who  has  the 
good  fortune  to  live  here,  may  not  grow  callous  to  the 
sentiments  of  humanity,  by  the  constant  entreaties  of 
starved  millions.  It  is  an  oasis  in  this  miserable,  but 
beautiful  land.  Sweet,  charming  spot,  I  pass  from  thee 
with  regret,  fearing  I  shall  not  soon  "  look  on  thy  like 
again." 


BENNAGHER. 


327 


A  few  turns  and  we  are  at  Bennagher.  It  is  what  we 
feared  to  find  it — fair  in  the  distance,  but  more  miserable 
as  we  approach  it.  And  yet  here  are  the  evidences  that 
power,  wealth,  and  industry  exist  somewhere,  for  we  are 
now  laying  along  side  of  a  fine  quay,  and  close  under  a 
massive  bridge,  whose  noble  piers  and  broad  arches  span 
this  fine  river,  and  whose  buttresses  and  parapets  rise  twenty 
or  thirty  feet  above  it.  We  have  just  been  up  the  bank 
and  taken  a  glance  at  the  town.  It  looks  like  a  place 
of  considerable  business,  has  one  or  two  large  churches, 
numerous  stores,  and  a  bank,  and  exhibits  signs  of  life 
we  have  found  in  no  place  this  side  of  Limerick.  Nu- 
merous soldiers  are  loitering  about  the  street  and  quay, 
and  I  have  just  counted  seventeen  looking  down  upon 
us  from  the  bridge.  The  captain  of  the  boat  has  had  a 
long  conversation  with  one  of  the  officers  and  some  police- 
men on  shore  There  is  a  military  station — infantry  bar- 
racks, field  works  with  several  pieces  of  ordnance,  for 
what  I  do  not  know.  Opposite  there  is  a  Martello  tower, 
with  a  battery  mounted  on  the  top.  It  stands  as  a  guard 
at  the  Gal  way  end  of  the  bridge.  One  would  suppose  this 
river  was  the  boundary  of  two  kingdoms,  by  the  array  of 
fortifications  seen  on  both  sides. 

A  gentleman  has  just  informed  me  that  there  are,  at  pre- 
sent, three  fortified  passes  of  the  Shannon,  and  this  is  one  of 
them  ;  the  other  two  are  above,  one  at  Shannon  Bridge, 
some  ten  miles  distant,  on  the  Roscommon  side,  and  the 
other  at  Athlone,  some  twenty-five  miles  from  this  place, 
and  near  the  outlet  of  Lough  Rea.  The  latter  is  a  town 
of  considerable  importance,  and  the  fortifications  are  on  a 
large  scale.  It  has  a  strong  castle,  or  citadel,  erected  in  the 
reign  of  King  John,  but  since  enlarged  and  strengthened. 
It  stands  on  elevated  ground,  on  the  West  Meath  side,  and 
commands  the  bridge  and  both  sides  of  the  river.  It  is 
surrounded  by  extensive  breast-works,  mounted  with  artil- 
lery, all  ready  for  action.  On  the  opposite,  or  Roscommon 
side,  are  forts  and  redoubts  which  guard  all  the  approaches 


328 


A   CAUSE  OF  ENVY. 


from  Connaught.  The  armory  contains  fifteen  thousand 
stand  of  arms,  and  there  are  barracks,  store-houses,  hospi- 
tals, and  all  the  appurtenances  of  a  strongly  fortified  town. 
Shannon  Bridge  has  a  less  formidable  show  of  military  de- 
fences, but  superior  to  what  we  see  here.  These  places 
were  the  principle  passess  from  Connaught  to  Leinster,  in 
olden  times,  and  hence  they  were  strongly  guarded,  as  well 
as  those  above  Lough  Rea.  But  the  government  has  not 
seen  fit  to  keep  up  any  others  ;  and  why  these  are  he  was 
not  able  to  inform  me.  There  certainly  can  be  no  more 
danger  of  a  rebellion  in  Connaught,  among  the  wretched 
and  destitute  population  of  Galway,  Mayo,  and  Sligo,  than 
in  Tipperary,  Cork,  or  Kent,  or  even  in  Ulster,  for  Mitchell, 
of  whom  we  hear  so  much,  is  an  Ulster  protestant,  and 
O'Brien  is  a  protestant  from  Limerick. 

It  looks  unchristian  to  see  these  hordes  of  men  in  martial 
attire,  loafing  about  the  streets,  whose  well-filled  capons  ex- 
cite the  envy  of  the  starved  wretches  over  whom  they  keep 
watch,  and  tend  to  foster  a  spirit  of  discontent,  and  hostility 
to  the  government  which  keeps  up  such  distinctions.  But 
there  is  shrewd  policy  in  this  procedure.  All  the  best 
young  men  are  enlisted  into  the  army,  navy,  or  police  ser- 
vice, where  they  are  fed  and  clothed  at  the  public  charge, 
and  in  good  style,  and  well  paid,  so  as  to  make  them  con- 
tented with  their  condition,  and  attached  to  the  interests 
of  the  government  in  any  course  it  is  pleased  to  adopt.  And 
then  it  is  politic  to  keep  up  a  fair  military  show,  both  to 
overawe  the  people,  and  to  attract  the  attention  of  ardent 
and  ambitious  young  men,  who  may  be  induced  to  fill  up 
all  the  vacancies  which  may  occur  in  the  ranks  of  the  pub- 
lic force.  England  boasts  of  her  constitutional  freedom, 
and  the  leniency  of  her  laws ;  but,  really,  I  have,  so  far,  seen 
little  proof  of  either  ;  but  much  which  comports  with  the 
ideas  I  have  formed  of  a  military  despotism.  It  may  not 
be  the  despotism  of  one  individual,  of  an  absolute  monarch  ; 
but  the  despotism  of  many  individuals,  petty  tyrants,  who 
play  the  autocrat,  in  the  landlord,  agent,  and  middle-man, 


FORCIBLE   AND   PERMISSIVE  WRONG. 


329 


to  all  intents  and  purposes,  in  their  own  spheres  and  over 
their  own  vassals.  England  is,  at  least,  so  far  as  Ireland  is 
concerned,  a  military  aristocracy,  which  is  absolute  so  far 
as  the  interest,  the  welfare,  and  even  the  lives  of  the 
masses  are  concerned.  It  matters  little  whether  a  military 
officer  orders  a  corporal's  guard  to  seize  a  man,  chain  him 
down  to  his  coffin,  and  then  commands  a  platoon  to  shoot 
him  through  the  heart,  or  whether  a  landlord's  agent,  with 
a  sheriff  and  posse  of  policemen  evict  him,  and  turn  himself 
and  family  out  upon  the  world,  without  any  source  of  living, 
and  leave  them  to  die,  inch  by  inch,  of  starvation.  The 
latter  is  often  done,  and  for  fear  the  people  will  rebel,  these 
fortifications  are  manned  with  the  armor  of  death,  and 
young  men  are  trained  to  sear  their  consciences  against  the 
voice  of  God,  uttered  in  the  rights  and  wants  of  a  common 
humanity,  and  to  obey  the  command  of  a  superior  officer 
to  do  any  deed,  however  barbarous,  under  the  penalty  of 
losing  their  own  lives.  This  is  English  freedom,  and  Ire- 
land's blessing,  gained  by  conquest  and  the  union  of  1800. 
The  soldiery  in  Ireland,  at  this  time,  out-numbers  the  whole 
army  of  the  United  States  in  a  time  of  peace,  more  than 
four  times.  Its  social  condition  can  be  easily  inferred  from 
this  circumstance. 

From  Bennagher  to  Shannon  harbor,  the  current  of  the 
river  is  scarcely  perceptible,  and  the  shores  are  low  and 
boggy.  At  the  former  place,  wTe  passed  through  a  shallow 
lock,  of  two  or  three  feet,  near  which  two  or  three  freight 
boats  were  lying.  We  have,  so  far.  seen  nothing  to  indicate 
any  great  amount  of  business  done  on  this  great  central 
thoroughfare  of  this  densely  populated  country.  A  traveler 
would  see  more  stir  and  business  in  a  single  hour,  on  the 
Erie  canal,  than  he  could  here  in  a  week  ;  for  there  boats 
are  passing  constantly,  while  here,  in  our  whole  route  from 
Limerick,  we  have  not  met  or  passed  a  single  boat,  in  mo- 
tion, and  not  a  dozen  lying  idle  at  the  landings.  There 
certainly  can  be  no  thrift  in  a  country  so  favorably  circum- 
stanced for  the  growth  and  transport  of  an  immense  amount 

28* 


330  TFIE   QUESTION   OF  RIGHTS. 

of  produce.  There  must  be  something  radically  wrong  in 
the  management  of  affairs.  If  the  fault  is  all  to  be  attached 
to  the  peasantry,  it  is  high  time  some  measures  were 
adopted  to  instruct  them  in  a  better  course.  If  it  is  the 
landlords  who  are  to  blame,  something  should  be  done  to 
bring  them  to  a  sense  of  duty.  If  it  is  the  government 
who  does  all  the  wrong,  makes  all  the  mischief,  then  a  re- 
volution should  set  matters  to  rights.  But,  what  is  more 
plain,  if  all  are  alike  concerned  in  the  transgression,  and 
have  helped,  more  or  less,  to  produce  the  ruinous  state  of 
things  every  where  prevailing,  it  then  becomes  a  mutual 
duty,  as  all  are  alike  interested,  to  remove  the  impediments, 
and  introduce  and  sustain  measures  which  can  appeal  to 
the  sentiment  of  justice,  and  give  assurances  of  general 
good.  The  government  should  protect  .the  tenant,  the 
small  farmer,  and  the  day-laborer,  as  well  as  the  land- 
owner and  middle-man,  and  give  encouragement  to  honest 
industry.  The  landlord  should  study  the  rights  and  happi- 
ness of  his  tenants,  and  seek  to  promote  their  welfare  as 
well  as  his  own.  And  tenants  should  know  the  rights  of 
the  landlords,  and  respect  them,  and  do  all  that  justice  de- 
mands at  their  hands. 

But  here  comes  a  difficulty,  alike  troublesome  to  the 
well-taught  philosopher  and  the  unsophisticated  peasant. 
On  what  basis  do  these  rights  rest  ?  By  what  standard 
are  they  to  be  tested  ?  The  man  of  the  world,  the  officer 
of  government,  the  sinecure  aristocrat,  may  have  no  trou- 
ble in  satisfying  their  minds.  They  assert,  without  hesita- 
tion, that  the  government  has  all  rights  at  its  disposal — to 
create,  modify,  or  abrogate,  at  pleasure.  The  crown  has 
portioned  out  these  baronies  to  the  marquis,  earl,  lord,  or 
gentleman,  and  entailed  the  fee  in  their  first-born  male 
heirs  throughout  all  generations.  The  crown  has  estab- 
lished a  church,  and  the  occupiers  of  these  lands  must  give 
a  tenth  of  all  their  income  to  support  its  clergy  and  digni- 
taries, whether  thev  believe  their  doctrines  and  sit  under 
their  administrations  or  not.    The  crown  must  be  defend- 


NATURAL  RIGHTS. 


331 


ed,  right  or  wrong,  and  these  armies  and  navies  must  be 
supported,  to  preserve  peace  at  home,  and  prosecute  con- 
quests abroad. 

These  noblemen  have  redder  blood  in  their  veins,  and 
they  and  their  families  must  be  supported  in  indolence  and 
luxury,  at  foreign  courts,  at  the  expense  of  these  tillers  of 
the  earth.  All  this  is  very  plain,  because  very  lawful  and 
common.  And  if  these  poor  tenants  complain,  it  is  their 
own  fault.  Here  is  the  land  ;  it  will  produce  enough  to 
pay  rents,  tithes,  taxes,  county-cess,  and  leave  potatoes  and 
oat-meal  for  them  and  their  little  ones  to  live  on,  if  indus- 
trious and  prudent !  But  they  do  not  work  half  so  much 
as  they  should,  and,  unfortunately,  the  potato-rot  has  taken 
away  their  main  sustenance.  But  if  they  are  not  satisfied 
they  may  quit,  and  shirk  for  themselves.  Scotch  and 
English  farmers  can  be  had,  who  will  do  better  than  these 
have  for  themselves  and  for  us.  So  argued  a  landlord  to 
me,  to  day,  and  added,  that,  "  You  are  welcome  to  all  our 
Irish  population,  if  you  want  them."  My  reply  was,  that 
we  did  not  want  them,  but  were  willing  to  be  merciful  to 
such  as  their  inhumanity  forced  upon  us. 

The  Christian  philosopher  and  humble  peasant  view  this 
matter  in  a  different  light,  and  from  different  stand-points. 
They  go  back  of  human  law,  when  they  talk  of  natural 
rights,  which  God  has  enacted  and  made  fundamental  to 
human  legislation.  They  do  not  understand  the  justice  or 
the  wisdom  of  the  present  apportionment  of  God's  heritage, 
made  alike  for  the  benefit  of  all  his  children.  They  repu- 
diate the  doctrine  that  kings  and  barons  have  divine  rights, 
more  than  others,  and  that  priests  are  God's  oracles  on 
earth.  If  the  Jews  paid  tithes  to  support  one  of  the 
twelve  tribes,  that  tribe  had  no  land,  while  every  other 
had  a  right  to  possess  a  "  tenant-right"  from  Heaven,  and 
no  one  could  monopolize  a  large  territory  ;  not  even  the 
king  could  obtain  the  vineyard  of  Naboth,  without  the 
wicked  intrigue  of  Jezebel,  and  the  "  nobles"  who  suborned 
"two  men  of  Belial"  to  perjure  themselves,  by  which  the 


332 


A   CURE   OF   THE   PEOPLE'S  WRONGS 


"  inheritance  of  his  fathers"  was  confiscated  on  grounds 
not  unlike  those  employed  by  Cromwell  and  the  Christian 
kings  of  England  to  obtain  these  Irish  possessions — 
"  Naboth  did  blaspheme  the  name  of  God  and  the 
king."  Poor  Ireland  has  been  wronged  these  four  centu- 
ries, and  is  well  nigh  dead,  and  its  land,  by  perjured  men, 
has  been  parcelled  out,  and  given  away,  while  its  rightful 
owners  are  required  to  till  it  at  the  bidding  and  on  the 
terms  of  their  oppressors. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  the  right  of  such  institutions, 
or  to  discern  how  a  better  state  of  things  can  be  reasona- 
bly expected,  till  some  radical  change  takes  place.  The 
poor  laborer  does  not  understand  why  he  should  toil  and 
starve,  to  support  the  pride  of  boys  and  girls  made  of  such 
material  as  himself.  He  finds  no  such  direction  in  the  na- 
tural constitution  of  the  world,  nor  in  the  revealed  will  of 
God.  And  the  better  he  becomes  informed,  the  more  de- 
graded he  feels  in  his  dependent  and  servile  condition.  He 
rejects,  repudiates,  demurs,  and  finally  refuses,  and  is  then 
cast  out  to  starve  for  his  stubbornness.  Or,  if  by  chance, 
one  should  be  raised  to  a  rank  with  the  favorites  of  go- 
vernment, the  change  is  so  great,  and  the  influences  so 
strong,  that  he  "  forgets,  straightway,  what  manner  of  man 
he  was,'*  and  becomes,  in  turn,  the  oppressor  of  his  bre- 
thren. 

The  philanthropist  sees  no  hope  of  any  thing  like  perma- 
nent improvement  under  the  present  system  of  laws. 
Every  thing  indicates  that  changes  from  bad  to  worse  will 
continue,  till  the  culminating  point  is  reached — which  can 
not  be  far  distant — when  a  new  and  better  order  will  arise 
out  of  the  present  confusion.  But  it  is  needless  to  talk 
about  paving  the  Catholic  priests — such  pap  may  quiet  a 
few,  but  it  can  not  satisfy  the  masses.  It  may  help  to  weld 
the  chains  of  church  and  state,  and  keep  the  masses 
crushed  a  while  longer,  by  the  imposition  of  a  new  burden, 
but  it  can  never  exalt  the  people  to  rational  freedom,  or  the 
dignity  of  men.    And  yet,  it  is  said,  government  seriously 


SOUGHT   IN   THE   RESTORATION    OF   MONASTERIES.  333 


contemplates  the  manceuver,  to  which  it  has  been  urged  by 
certain  demagogues,  who  tremble  for  the  fate  of  a  state  re- 
ligion. The  Catholics,  generally,  pretend  to  oppose  the 
plan,  and  propose  another,  equally  objectionable.  To  the 
question,  "  What  is  to  be  done  with  Ireland — and  how  is 
Ireland  to  be  relieved  from  her  present  misery  ?"  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  clergy  answer,  "  The  means  of  giving  to  Ire- 
land permanent  future  prosperity,  rests  in  the  restoration  to 
her  of  the  possession  of  her  ancient  and  long-tried  Insti- 
tute— the  Monastic  Order  Let  Ireland  again  have 

her  Monastic  Institute,  and  she  begs  no  more.  Let  her 
have  that,  and  her  children  are  no  longer  stamped  with  the 
character  of  laziness  or  ignorance."*  And  the  English 
Parliament  is  invoked  to  turn  back  to  the  days  of  moral 
darkness,  to  seek  a  solace  for  Irish  suffering.  How  the  up- 
rearing  of  convents  and  nunneries  would  remedy  present 
evils,  it  is  difficult  to  see,  unless  by  diminishing  the  increase 
of  population  !  That  is  needless,  for  it  is  estimated,  with 
good  reason,  that  Ireland,  under  proper  management,  could 
sustain  double  its  present  population.  In  my  humble 
judgment,  it  would  add  but  an  other  barrier,  more  formi- 
dable than  any  other,  to  the  accumulated  wrongs  under 
which  this  nation  is  now  struggling,  and  retard  its  deli- 
verance for  centuries. 

"  Monastic  Orders"  are  not  very  distinguished  for  the 
advocacy,  establishment,  and  defence  of  popular  liberty 

*  "  But  to  give  permanency  and  perfection  to  Irish  prosperity,  a  restoration 
oi'  her  olden  system  is  absolutely  necessary.  Let  there  be  in  every  district  a 
monastic  establishment,  calculated,  by  its  number  of  inhabitants  and  its  tem- 
poral means,  to  give  education  in  every  branch  of  requisite  knowledge.  Let 
the  Monks,  in  their  lowly  habit  and  life  of  self-abnegation,  be  empowered  to 
scatter  the  seeds  of  that  science,  which  ever  makes  men  industrious  and  cha- 
ritable. Let  their  well-cultivated  fields  be  as  so  many  patterns  to  each  surround- 
ing neighborhood — let  their  early-tolled  bells  announce  the  cheering  note  of 
happy  labor  in  the  fields  ;  and  let  their  holy  conversation  stimulate  the  rising 
youth  to  works  of  piety,  to  the  practice  of  virtue,  and  to  the  perfect  fulfil- 
ment of  all  their  duties  as  Christians,  and  as  subjects  of  the  British  Empire." 
—Rev.  M.  Scally,  O.  C.  C. 


334 


AN   EXPERIMENT  DEMANDED 


and  equal  rights,  without  which  no  nation  can  be  truly 
exalted  and  happy.  Witness  Italy,  Spain,  Portugal,  Mexi- 
co, and  the  kingdoms  of  South  America.  Wherever  and 
whenever  ecclesiastics  have  borne  rule,  personal  liberty, 
religious,  political,  and  social,  has  been  trampled  down,  the 
most  sacred  rights  invaded,  and  the  people  reduced  to  pe- 
nury, ignorance,  and  the  most  abject  dependence  and  ser- 
vitude. Who  that  has  passed  through  the  districts  of  Ire- 
land, the  German  States,  the  Swiss  cantons,  and  Catholic 
and  Protestant  countries,  has  not  been  surprised  at  the 
contrasts  which  indicate  the  limits  of  ecclesiastical  autho- 
rity and  religious  freedom  ?  The  line  of  civilization  and 
barbarism  are  not  more  distinct. 

But  that  experiment  has  been  tried,  and  the  world  is  sa- 
tisfied of  its  inadequacy.  The  millions  groaning  in  bon- 
dage and  poverty,  u  laziness  and  ignorance,"  in  the  coun- 
tries before  referred  to,  are  a  sufficient  warning.  It  will 
take  better  proofs  than  the  Carmelite  Convent  at  Knock- 
topher  can  afford,  to  satisfy  the  democratic  tendency  of 
the  present  age,  that  these  monasteries  are  institutions  for 
the  benefit  of  the  masses,  for  the  enlightenment  and  equali- 
zation of  mankind,  and  the  fraternization  of  the  classes, 
without  distinction  of  caste,  condition,  sect,  or  race.  The 
spirit  of  this  age  is  Christian,  eminently  so.  Its  demands 
and  proffers  are  universal.  It  overleaps  all  barriers,  sun- 
ders all  covenants,  repudiates  all  claims,  and  tramples  down 
all  forms,  which  error  and  selfishness  have  reared  on  earth, 
for  the  division  and  alienation  of  humanity.  It  proclaims 
the  fast  the  Lord  hath  chosen  "  to  loose  the  bands  of  wick- 
edness, to  undo  the  heavy  burdens,  and  to  let  the  oppressed 
go  free,  and  that  ye  break  every  yoke."  It  does  it  in  faith, 
believing  that  God's  promise  is  about  being  fulfilled,  when 
the  light  is  to  break  out  like  the  morning,  and  health  to  spring 
forth  speedily,  while  righteousness  goes  before,  and  God  is 
the  rearward.  The  disintegration  of  mankind  by  the  con- 
fusion of  tongues  has  been  fulfilled  ;  the  "  Shiboleths"  of 
human  councils  have  been  tried,  and  signally  failed  ;  and 


ON    BROADER  PRINCIPLES. 


335 


now,  the  deep  voice  of  humanity,  which  found  an  utter- 
ance in  true  and  courageous  men,  on  the  hills  and  plains, 
in  the  cities  and  villages  of  Palestine,  in  the  judgment  hall 
and  in  the  temple,  before  the  Areopagite  and  at  the  Diet 
of  Worms,  still  speaks,  louder  than  seven  thunders,  calling 
upon  the  nations  to  be  free,  wise,  good,  and  happy.  It  is  a  lan- 
guage which  all  can  understand — love,  liberty,  fraternity, 
equality !  It  is  the  language  which  God,  by  prophets,  pro- 
mised— "  to  turn  unto  the  people  a  pure  language,  that  they 
should  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord,  to  serve  HIM  with 
one  consent."  Each  true  man,  with  faith  in  Christ,  feels 
that  he  is  a  king  and  priest  unto  God,  and  that  none  of 
Adam's  race,  or  Saul's  descent,  have  a  right  to  step  be- 
tween him  and  his  Maker,  to  enslave  either  body  or  soul 
He  asks  for  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ  hath  made  him 
free,  and  will  not  be  again  entangled  in  the  yoke  of  bon- 
dage. He  will  consent  to  government  for  the  mutual  pro- 
tection it  affords,  and  will  help  to  support  it,  voluntarily 
and  cheerfully.  He  will  receive  priests  after  the  order  of 
Melchisedec,  who  come,  like  the  great  Master,  to  serve 
mankind  by  lessons  of  wisdom  and  examples  of  piety,  and 
he  will  love  and  honor  them.  But  he  sees  no  virtue  in  the 
"  mysterious  oil"  which  anoints  a  king,  or  consecrates  a 
priest.  He  discovers  no  rightful  power  in  the  coronet  of 
the  noble,  the  mitre  of  the  bishop,  the  ermine  of  a  judge, 
or  epaulet  of  a  general,  which  is  not  derived  from  the  con- 
sent of  the  people.  He  rejects  the  "  regis,"  repudiates  the 
ecclesiarch,  and  pleads  the  general  issue. 

Irishmen  have  been  compelled  to  know  some  thing  of 
these  principles.  Their  hills  and  their  bogs,  their  oppres- 
sors and  their  miseries,  have  taught  them  to  be  free. 
Many  most  distinguished  men  in  America  are  from  Ireland. 
Her  patriotic  sons  have  served  in  the  battles  of  most  of 
the  armies  of  the  civilized  world,  and  have  distinguished 
themselves  by  the  most  heroic  valor.  The  fields  of  Clon- 
tarf  and  Waterloo,  the  heights  of  Quebec,  the  plains  of 
New  Orleans,  the  waters  off  Trafalgar,  the  moats  of  Ba- 


33t» 


IRISH  VALOR. 


dajos,  the  walls  of  Toulouse  and  Salamanca,  and,  more  re 
cently,  Monterey,  Cerro  Gordo,  and  Chapultepec,  with  a 
thousand  others,  have  been  stained  with  the  warm  blood 
of  Irishmen.  And  who  will  talk  about  "  monasteries,"  "legal- 
ized tenant-rights,"  and  "  pay  for  the  Catholic  clergymen," 
as  sugar-plums  to  reconcile  them  to  their  wrongs,  or  make 
them  loyal  to  their  oppressors. 

I  know,  and  have  confessed,  that  many  Irish  are  degra- 
ded, ignorant,  lazy,  improvident.    But  does  that  justify  op- 
pression, or  argue  that  the  longer  denial  of  their  rights 
will  afford  them  relief— that  to  pay  clergymen  and  help 
landlords,  will  make  the  people  contented  and  happy  ? 
Never.    This  age  has  learned  to  discredit  the  doctrine, 
that  to  -protect  the  rich  is  to  provide  for  the  poor,  and  that 
the  repetition  of  mass  in  a  convent  will  make  a  community 
religious.    It  now  asks,  as  of  yore,  "  Do  not  the  rich  op- 
press you  ?"  (James  26,)  and  demands  that  each  man 
should  have  a  chance  to  be  rich  and  religious  for  himself, 
while  every  man  "  bears  his  own  burdens."    Ours  is  emi- 
nently a  practical  age.    The  days  of  abstractions  are  past, 
and  examples  and  illustrations  are  now  demanded.  And 
if  ye  wi!l  have  it  so,  ours  is  a  radical  age ;  first  principles 
are  discussed.    The  axe  is  laid  at  the  roots  of  the  trees  of 
social  life.    Every  tree  that  bringeth  not  forth  good  fruit  is 
hewn  down.    Kingcraft  and  priestcraft  have  been  tried — 
well  tried.    They  have  flourished  luxuriantly.    But  their 
fruit  has  been  the  apples  of  Sodom — death  to  every  thing 
like  rational  liberty,  equal  rights  and  social  happiness.  The 
christian  leaven  is  now  at  work.    The  fermentation  has 
already  begun.    Agitation  is  the  consequence.  Expansion 
will  follow.    The  systems  of  government  will  become  more 
liberal.    The  natural  and  inalienable  rights  which  God  has 
given  to  his  children  will  be  better  understood  ;  and  such 
laws  will  be  enacted  as  will  secure  to  all  their  free  exercise, 
and  make  penal  every  infringement,  by  high  or  low,  rich  or 
poor.    Then  every  man  will  rise  or  sink  to  his  proper  level, 
and  the  race  will  progress  to  the  obtainment  of  the  great 


AN   OPPORTUNITY  WANTED. 


337 


ends  of  existence,  order,  love,  and  unity — the  glory  of  God 
and  the  happiness  of  the  world !    Amen ! 

These  notions  may  be  considered  Utopian  by  the  unbe- 
lieving.   They  would  be  by  myself  had  I  not  learned  them 
from  One  who  had  the  truth,  and  bore  witness  to  it,  under 
circumstances  darker  than  these.    I  see  clouds,  though  no 
bigger  than  a  man's  hand,  which  indicate  commotions  which 
will  purify  the  atmosphere,  and  change  the  aspect  of  things, 
turning  the  parched  ground  into  pools  of  water,  and  spread- 
ing life,  and  health,  and  beauty  every  where.    The  quick 
perceptions  of  the  Irish,  when  once  an  opportunity  is  offered, 
will  direct  them  in  a  proper  course  of  action.    What  they 
need  is  a  removal  of  their  burdens,  not  an  increase  of  them, 
and  words  and  examples  of  encouragement.    Let  the  rulers 
of  the  land  once  deal  justly  and  equitably  with  all  the  peo- 
ple, and  give  free  opportunity,  and  these  agitations  will 
cease,  poverty  will  be  speedily  removed,  and  Ireland  will 
become  a  prosperous,  happy,  and  loyal  country.  Extortion 
and  oppression,  the  crushing  weight  of  political  and  social 
disabilities,  kept  under  the  espionage  of  priests,  policemen, 
and  standing  armies,  the  minions  of  aristocracy,  can  only 
make  the  present  difficulties  more  intricate,  and  procrasti- 
nate the  day  of  redemption.    "  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for 
they  shall  obtain  mercy."  Like  will  produce  like  ;  Ireland's 
wretchedness  and  depravity  can  all  be  explained  according 
to  the  eternal  laws  which  rule  the  world  ;  and  its  deliver- 
ance and  enfranchisement  can  only  be  obtained  by  obedience 
to  the  same.  Let  the  poor  be  loved  and  cared  for,  let  justice 
be  done  to  all — its  image  is  represented  blindfold,  holding 
the  equal  scales  in  a  steady  hand — let  all  false,  unnatural, 
and  unjust  distinctions  be  removed,  and  this  "  gem  of  the 
ocean,"  shall  no  longer  be  tarnished  as  now,  with  scenes  of 
wrong  and  outrage,  and  misery  which  so  despoil  its  beauty. 
The  people  will  learn  to  love  and  appreciate  knowledge  and 
virtue,  and  will  enter  cheerfully  into  the  habits  of  peaceful 
industry  which  will  be  no  longer  unrequited.    What  bless- 
ings would  not  result  to  England,  and  our  own  countrv,  and 

29 


338 


SHANNON    II  ARBOR. 


to  the  world,  from  such  a  course  of  christian  justice  and 
benevolence!.  Figures  could  not  compute  them.  Time, 
in  its  long  duration,  would  continue  to  develop  them,  and 
eternity  in  its  blaze  of  glory  reveal  them  all. 

Shannon  harbor  is  that  point  of  the  river  where  the  grand 
canal  crosses  it  from  Dublin  to  Ballinasloe.  It  is  a  lonely 
spot.  There  is  no  village  or  buildings  near  the  junction. 
A  miserable  wharf  in  bad  repair,  and  a  shackly  bridge  are 
the  only  indications  of  a  harbor.  Some  distance  to  the 
east,  there  is  a  large  hotel  and  canal  station,  and  at  the  west 
a  small  dwelling  for  the  lock  tender.  To  the  north,  the 
country  is  flat  and  uninteresting  as  far  as  we  could  see, 
through  which  the  sluggish  waters  of  the  Shannon  meander. 
The  Brosna  river,  one  of  its  principal  tributaries,  enters  at 
this  point,  from  the  east,  and  not  far  above,  on  the  opposite 
side,  the  Sack. 

We  waited  some  time  for  the  packet  boat  from  Ballinasloe, 
some  fifteen  miles  distant,  situated  on  both  sides  of  the  Sack, 
in  Galway  and  Roscommon  counties,  and  at  the  termina- 
tion of  the  Grand  canal.  We  amused  ourselves  in  talking 
with  some  ragged  girls,  who  came  with  small  cans  of  milk 
and  an  old  half-pint  tin  cup,  to  supply  the  wants  of  travel- 
ers. I  patronized  one  of  them  in  order  to  gain  her  confi- 
dence. They  looked  famished  and  miserable.  I  gave  her 
an  extra  penny,  the  price  of  two  cups  full,  and  told  her  to 
drink  it  herself.  She  said  she  did  not  dare  to  drink  it,  for 
"  sure  the  Missus  would  bate  her  an  she  did."  I  told  her  to 
keep  the  penny  then,  and  buy  her  some  bread.  That  she 
did  not  dare  do  lest  the  mistress  should  hear  of  it  and  ac- 
cuse her  of  stealing  it.  So  she  refused  to  take  it.  This 
certainly  was  a  striking  proof  of  the  falsity  of  the  whole- 
sale aspersions  of  Irish  character.  Still,  I  am  inclined  to 
think  that  there  was  no  great  virtue  in  the  refusal,  for  she 
seemed  to  covet  it,  and  no  doubt  felt  actually  worse  than 
she  would  if  she  had  been  free  to  accept  it.  It  is  a  virtue 
of  subjection  which  is  exceedingly  degrading  to  a  sensitive 


LAW   AND   ORDER.  3t39 

mind.  That  conduct  which  is  produced  by  no  higher  mo- 
tive than  the  fear  of  punishment,  is  of  questionable  merit, 
whatever  the  results  may  be.  Every  action,  to  be  merito- 
rious, must  be  free  and  voluntary,  dictated  by  a  conscious- 
ness of  what  is  right,  and  designed  for  good.  A  submission 
or  morality,  extorted  by  the  pressure  of  outward  influences, 
possesses  no  merit.  "  It  is  that  which  cometh  out  of  a  man 
that  defileth  him." 

I  also  had  a  conversation  with  a  gentleman  who  related 
to  me  a  fact  which  serves  to  show  how  "  law  and  order" 
are  preserved  in  this  country.    In  the  hunting  park  of 

Lord  ,  a  poor  laborer  poached  a  rabbit.    He  was 

detected  in  the  act  and  shot  dead  by  the  forester  of  the 
"nobleman."  The  facts  became  known,  yet  no  more  at- 
tention was  paid  to  them  than  there  would  have  been  at 
the  slaughter  of  the  vilest  reptile  that  crawls  on  the  earth. 
I  have  heard  of  many  cases  where  the  tenants  who  have 
killed  game  which  was  destroying  their  crops,  have  not  only 
been  heavily  fined  but  imprisoned  also.  Notices  of  "  vio- 
lence and  outrages"  of  this  character  rarely  find  a  place  in 
the  columns  of  the  English  journals,  great  sticklers  as  they 
affect  to  be  for  the  sway  of  "  law  and  order.  To  shoot  an 
animal  which  is  destroying  the  crops  of  the  poor  tenant  in- 
volves fine  and  imprisonment,  but  to  shoot  the  tenant  him- 
self involves  scarcely  the  notice  of  an  inquiry ! 

There  is,  at  present,  no  regular  line  of  steamboats  to 
Athlone,  though  I  am  told  the  river  is  navigable  to  Lough 
Allan,  some  eighty  or  ninety  miles  farther.  In  our  coun- 
try, new  as  it  is,  such  a  stream  would  not  long  remain 
undisturbed  by  regular  lines  of  boats,  laden  with  the  fruits 
of  industry,  cheered  by  the  animated  countenances  of 
those  by  whom  they  were  produced. 

Ballinasloe,  the  residence  of  Lord  Clancarty  is  said  to 
have  been  a  place  of  a  good  deal  of  business,  where  the 
largest  cattle  fairs  in  the  kingdom  were  formerly  held — 
sometimes  as  many  as  eighty  thousand  sheep  and  twelve 
thousand  horned  cattle,  and  goods  to  the  amount  of  £500,- 


340 


ATHLON  E. 


000  changed  hands  at  a  single  fair.  It  is  now,  however, 
like  all  other  parts  of  the  country,  fallen  into  poverty  and 
ruin,  through  the  neglect  of  the  proprietor.* 

I  have  a  strong  desire  to  visit  Athlone,  one  of  the  most 
important  towns  in  the  central  part  of  the  kingdom  ;  and 
also  the  celebrated  "  Seven  Churches"  at  Clanmacnoise,  just 
this  side,  where  a  large  round  tower,  and  the  ruins  of  the 
churches  are  still  to  be  seen.  It  is  described  as  a  desolate 
and  forsaken  spot,  on  a  barren  ridge  of  gravelly  hills,  near  the 
banks  of  the  Shannon,  now  celebrated  only  as  a  place  of 
burial,  where  numbers  of  the  simple  and  superstitious  pea- 
santry desire  to  have  their  remains  deposited,  as  in  a  hallowed 
spot,  and  near  to  heaven.  Athlone  is  still  a  place  of  im- 
portance as  a  military  station.  Its  position  is  said  to  be 
beautiful ;  its  name  is  poetic  ;  and  its  history  interesting 
going  back  to  the  first  records  of  this  country.  It  has  been 
the  scene  of  many  wonders  in  war  and  religion,  and  still 
bears  the  marks  of  antiquity  and  splendor.  It  stands  so 
near  upon  the  borders  of  the  different  provinces,  formerly 
kingdoms,  Meath,  Leinster  and  Connaught,  and  not  far  from 
Ulster  and  Munster,  and  being  strongly  fortified,  it  became 
a  point  of  great  importance  in  the  civil  wars  which  har- 
rassed  the  country.  And  the  English  seized  upon  it  early 
as  an  important  post  to  keep  the  conquered  provinces  in* 
subjection,  and  perpetrated  some  of  their  bloody  deeds  for 
the  support  of  opposing  dynasties.  The  army  of  king 
William,  under  General  de  Ginckle,  met  with  a  long  and 
brave  resistance  from  the  army  of  king  James,  under 
General  St.  Ruth,  in  1691,  but  succeeded  in  capturing  the 
castle  and  routing  the  latter,  which  it  finally  conquered  on 
the  field  of  Kilcommadan,  near  Aughrim,  a  few  miles  from 
Ballinasloe.    The  castles  in  this  region,  and  through  Con- 

*  "  The  town  of  Ballinasloe — some  two  or  three  years  since,  one  of 
the  most  improving  in  the  western  province — is  now  converted  by  the  happy 
management  of  Lord  Clancarty  and  the  guardians  into  one  vast  lazar-house — 
the  concentrating  point  of  all  the  de-t;tution,  disease,  and  vice  of  the  largest 
union  in  Ireland,  with  only  one  exception — the  huge  Golgotha  of  Connaught." 


ANTICIPATIONS. 


341 


naught,  are  innumerable.  Almost  every  large  building  was 
a  fortification,  designed  to  protect  the  neighborhood  from 
the  forays  of  English  miscreants  who  hunted  the  Irish 
Catholics  like  wild  beasts,  of  which  they  wished  to  rid  the 
land.  One  writer  says  :  "  Before  the  arrival  of  Henry  II. 
there  were  not  more  than  four  or  five  castles,  except  those 
built  in  towns.  In  Henry  the  Eighth's  reign  there  were  up- 
wards of  five  hundred  of  these  small  castellated  houses  in 
the  county  of  Galway,  and  since  that  period,  chiefly  in  the 
reigns  of  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  they  multiplied  exceedingly. 
The  common,  small,  square  castles  were  the  residences  of 
English  undertakers  ;  and  all  those  built  before  the  reign 
of  James  I.  were  executed  by  English  masons,  and  on 
English  plans," — an  indication  of  English  interference  in 
those  times,  and  the  deadlv  warfare  between  the  Protestant 
and  Catholic  religions. 

I  am  comforted  with  the  thought  that  my  inability  to 
visit  these  places,  will  save  my  feelings  from  those  pain- 
ful reflections  to  which  they  have  been  subjected  ever 
since  I  landed  at  Kinsale.  I  have  no  heart  to  search  fur- 
ther into  the  wrongs  and  miseries  of  the  west  of  Ireland. 
I  have  been  through  the  worst  counties,  and  I  am  glad  to 
go  eastward,  through  Meath  and  Ulster,  which  are  called 
the  best  portions  of  Ireland.  But  I  have  already  seen  a 
country  good  enough  in  all  that  nature  could  do  for  it,  but 
sadly  disfigured  by  man's  perversions.  I  have  been  up  the 
noblest  river  Britain  can  boast.  I  have  looked  upon  ver- 
dant hills,  productive  vales,  and  sparkling  lakes,  which 
would  adorn  the  face  of  any  country.  And  I  have  seen 
how  much  the  pride  of  man  can  abuse  the  blessings  of 
God — how  degraded  one  can  make  an  other.  I  turn  my 
back  upon  the  west  of  Ireland  without  regret,  but  thank- 
ful that  I  have  seen  it,  and  learned  the  workings  of  aristo- 
cratic institutions  and  religious  bigotry,  when  canned  to 
their  legitimate  results  ;  and  hoping  to  find  yet  some  more 
redeeming  qualities  in  the  Emerald  Isle. 

20* 


342 


CANAL  PACKET-BOATS. 


CHAPTER  XI. 
DUBLIN. 

A  Canal  Boat. — A  Conversation  Overheard. — British  and  American  Valor. 
— Personal  Liberty  essential  to  Prosperity. — First  Principles  to  be  studied. 
— Individual  and  Social  Responsibility. — The  Preparations  adequate  to  a 
Republic. — Approach  to  Dublin. — Elegant  Station-House. — Wellington 
Monument. — An  Enthusiast. — The  Shelter. — The  Quays. — The  Cuetom- 
House. — The  Post-Office. — Nelson's  Pillar. — Bridges. — Four  Courts. — 
Parliament  House. — Trinity  College. — Revolutionary. — A  Carmelite  Fri- 
ar.— The  Castle. — Saint  Audoen. — Crowds  of  People. 

We  are  now  transferred  to  a  canal  packet-boat,  which, 
for  neatness  and  accommodation,  accords  very  well  with 
what  else  we  have  seen  along  this  route.  It  is  more  spa- 
cious and  convenient  than  the  one  on  which  we  rode  from 
Limerick  to  Killaloe.  The  main  cabin  is  wide  enough  for 
a  stationarv  table,  arranged  close  to  a  line  of  cushioned 
seats  on  one  side,  with  barely  room  to  pass  and  repass  on 
the  other.  Though  a  night-boat,  there  is  not  the  least  pre- 
paration for  sleeping — not  a  pillow,  quilt,  or  blanket.  For- 
tunately for  us,  there  are  few  passengers,  and  so  we  have 
a  more  comfortable  prospect  before  us  It  is  singular,  that 
a  company  having  the  entire  monopoly  of  a  line  of  com- 
munication through  the  center  of  a  country  so  densely 
populated  as  this,  and  connecting  two  of  the  principal  cities, 
should,  after  so  many  years'  experience,  be  unable  to  pro- 
vide no  better  means  for  the  transport  of  passengers.  Our 
own  packet-boats  are  bad  enough,  as  every  body  who  has 
traveled  in  them  can  testify,  but  they  are  palaces,  com- 
pared with  these  dark,  dirty,  lumbering  affairs.  Ours,  espe- 
cially those  upon  the  Erie  canal,  are  light,  neat,  and  airy ; 
and  Yankee  ingenuity  has  contrived  a  way  to  suspend  pas- 
sengers for  the  night,  where  there  is  a  possibility  of  getting 
a  little  of  "  nature's  sweet  restorer."  It  is  not  very  com- 
fortable, I  admit,  to  be  hung  up,  three  deep,  by  a  tow 
string,  and  have  the  floor  spread  over  with  sleeping  huma- 


TROUBLES   OF  DISTINCTIONS. 


343 


nity,  so  thick  that  one  can  not  pass  out  of  his  prison  to  get 
a  breath  of  pure  air,  without  trampling  under  foot  his  fel- 
low beings  ;  but  even  that  is  better  than  no  sleep  at  all. 
But  here  we  are  not  troubled  with  a  crowd  of  travelers. 
We  have  not  enough  to  cheer  us,  as  we  look  forward  upon 
a  flat  and  uninteresting  country  and  a  sleepless  night. 

The  contrast  between  the  amount  and  comfort  of  travel- 
ing in  this  country  and  in  ours,  is  indicative  of  the  relative 
condition  of  the  two  nations.  With  us,  all  is  enterprise 
and  activity.  Every  body  is  agog  after  something,  and  a 
thousand  topics  of  business,  politics  or  religion  will  be  dis- 
cussed, and  every  man  feel  free  to  take  a  part.  Here 
there  is  no  bustle,  little  sociability,  and  few  tokens  of  con- 
tentment and  prosperity.  Arrangements  for  two  classes 
of  passengers,  in  such  small  dimensions,  is  attended  with 
much  inconvenience.  They  are  troublesome  every  where. 
Pride  and  distinction  always  bring  anxiety  and  trouble. 
He  who  cherishes  the  one,  or  is  raised  to  the  other,  must 
either  forget  his  humanity,  and  sunder  the  ties  which 
should  attach  him  to  his  fellow-men,  or  else,  he  must  be 
constantly  tormented  with  a  series  of  annoyances  from 
which  the  true  man  is  always  glad  to  be  delivered.  Some 
men  will  bear  promotion  without  misery :  because  they 
forget  not  themselves  nor  their  responsibilities.  Such  will 
bear  adversity  and  the  reproaches  of  the  world  with  equal 
dignity.  They  are  actuated  by  a  spirit  of  nobleness  which 
is  unaffected  by  time,  place,  or  circumstance,  and,  when 
the  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together,  they  remember  ihat 
the  "  Lord  is  the  maker  of  them  all."  But  the  institutions 
and  very  existence  of  this  country  are  based  upon  aristo- 
cratic distinctions,  which  can  not  be  touched,  in  any  de- 
partment, without  endangering  the  whole  fabric.  It  would 
no  more  do  to  admit  a  free,  democratic  intercourse,  and 
mutual  respect  and  politeness  between  the  classes,  than  it 
would  for  Southern  men  to  admit  their  slaves  to  the  bene- 
fits of  a  good  education,  and  free  intercourse  with  the  peo- 
ple of  the  North. 


344 


BOG   OF  ALLAN. 


The  boat  in  which  we  are  now  ensconced  has  come 
from  Ballinasloe,  the  end  of  the  Grand  canal,  from  which 
place  it  has  brought  three  passengers  of  the  first  class,  and 
as  many  of  the  second.  An  equal  number  from  our  boat 
make,  all  told,  twelve.  Of  these,  only  three  besides  our- 
selves have  a  place  in  the  main-cabin.  Two  of  these  are 
gentlemen,  the  other  is  a  lawyer,  all  lusty  loyalists,  as  we 
learn  from  their  conversation.  Two  are  bound  to  Tulla- 
more,  to  attend  the  assizes,  the  other  to  Dublin.  This  one 
I  take  for  an  Englishman,  by  the  dignity  he  assumes,  and 
the  sneering  and  reproachful  manner  with  which  he  speaks 
of  every  thing  that  is  not  English.  The  two  former  joined 
our  company  a  few  miles  back ;  the  latter  came  from  Bal- 
linasloe. 

After  leaving  the  Shannon,  the  canal  runs  nearly  parallel 
to  the  river  Brosna,  and  not  far  from  it,  with  few  villages, 
houses,  or  demesnes,  worth  the  trouble  of  inquiring  so 
much  as  their  names.  In  fact,  we  are  now  entered  upon 
the  celebrated  and  vast  Bog  of  Allan,  which  covers  an  ex- 
tensive area,  reaching  nearly  from  the  Shannon  to  the  Irish 
sea,  and  spreading  off  to  various  widths,  north  and  south. 
Elevated  points  project  into  it.  from  both  sides,  and,  in  some 
places,  hills  attain  the  height  of  several  hundred  feet. 
Where  the  ground  is  sufficiently  elevated,  like  islands  in 
the  sea,  it  is  exceedingly  fertile,  and,  it  is  said,  most  parts 
of  it  are  capable  of  cultivation,  by  the  aid  of  draining. 
The  hills,  to  the  north  and  south,  in  West  Meath  and 
King's  counties,  appear  very  beautiful,  and,  in  many  places, 
are  seen  the  ruins  of  old  castles,  handsome  plantations  of 
trees,  and  well-cultivated  lands,  which  give  proof  of  what 
the  hand  of  enlightened  and  liberal  industry  might  accom- 
plish. But,  generally,  it  is  a  broad  expanse  of  deep  peat, 
a  cheerless  brown  waste,  relieved  only  by  the  villages  and 
hamlets  in  the  distance,  with  here  and  there  a  cultivated 
farm,  and  genteel  residence,  scattered  at  great  distances 
from  each  other. 

After  writing  up  my  notes,  I  stretched  myself  upon  the 


FOREIGN    AID   FOR  IRELAND. 


345 


seat,  with  my  sac  de  nuit  for  a  pillow,  and  overcoat  for  a 
coverlet.  The  Englishman  was  supping  on  tea,  and  a 
"loaf  and  butter."  The  two  attorneys  were  chatting  on 
various  topics,  such  as  the  state  trials  going  on  in  Dublin, 
the  probable  success  of  the  rebel  movement,  and  the  mea- 
sures in  progress  to  suppress  it.  In  the  course  of  the  con- 
versation, mention  was  made  of  the  expected  interference 
of  France,  which  was  soon  dismissed  as  an  improbability, 
and  as  worthy  of  little  notice,  even  if  the  new  republic 
should  be  foolish  enough  to  attempt  to  assist  the  "  rebellious 
Irish  Catholics."  The  Englishman  thought  there  was 
"nothing  to  fear  on  that  score,  but  that  there  was  really 
cause  to  apprehend  that  the  Americans  would  become 
deeply  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  Repeal  movement,  inas- 
much as  the  last  news  had  brought  information  of  immense 
gatherings  to  express  sympathy  for  this  country,  and  to 
adopt  measures  to  aid  the  rebels  here." 

The  fat  Irishman  at  once  joined,  "  There  is  no  doubt 
of  it,  for  a  great  many  of  the  lower  classes  have  gone  to 
that  country,  who  would  neglect  to  do  nothing  to  revenge 
themselves  upon  the  landholders,  of  whose  conduct 
they  complain  so  bitterly.  But  they  can  accomplish  no- 
thing." 

"  There  is  no  danger  of  the  final  result,"  added  the 
Englishman,  "  though  it  might,  for  a  time,  cause  us  a  good 
deal  of  trouble.  We  are  abundantly  able  to  fight  the 
Americans,  and  beat  them  at  any  point." 

"  Not  the  least,"  chimed  in  the  other  lawyer  ;  "  but  I  do 
not  believe  there  is  the  least  danger  of  it.  The  Americans 
are  too  shrewd  to  venture  upon  a  war  with  this  country. 
They  know  too  well  the  strength  of  our  navy,  and  their 
own  inability  to  cope  with  it." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  Englishman ;  "  but  I  did  fear,  at 
one  time,  we  should  come  to  open  hostilities  on  the  Oregon 
question.  If  we  had,  there  is  no  doubt  we  should  have  got 
the  better  of  them  in  the  end,  and  done  better  than  we 
did  by  the  compromise,  for  they  would  have  been  glad  to 


346 


ENGLISH   AND  AMERICAN 


have  settled  with  us  on  any  terms ;  but  it  is  far  better  that 
the  two  nations  should  live  in  peace  with  each  other." 

"Most  certainly  it  is,"  added  the  fat  man,  "for  a  war 
would  injure  us  more  than  them.  We  are  dependent  upon 
them  for  cotton,  and  were,  last  year,  for  grain  and  other 
provisions.  Great  calamities  would  have  befallen  us  if  we 
had  been  at  war  at  that  time;  our  sufferings  must  have 
been  indescribable." 

"  Yes,  and  we  should  have  suffered  not  a  little  by  a  di- 
rect conflict,"  joined  the  other;  "for  the  United  States 
have  become  a  powerful  nation,  as  their  battles  in  Mexico 
abundantly  prove.  They  have  achieved  some  of  the 
proudest  victories  which  have  ever  graced  the  arms  of 
any  nation." 

"  That  is  very  true,"  remarked  the  Englishman  ;  "  they 
are  a  courageous  people,  and  valiant  in  their  wars ;  for, 
although  we  are  so  vastly  their  superiors,  they  contrived, 
by  some  means,  to  get  the  advantage  of  us  in  nearly  all 
the  battles  of  our  last  war  with  them,  although  their  ves- 
sels generally  carried  fewer  guns  and  men  than  ours." 

"  It  was  so,"  added  the  fat  lawyer,  "  and  we  were  com- 
pelled to  admit  their  superior  heroism,  for  their  numbers 
were  always  inferior,  and  yet,  in  almost  every  case,  as  you 
sav,  they  contrived  to  gain  the  victory  over  our  arms. 
America,  it  must  be  admitted,  is  becoming  a  mighty  nation, 
one  of  the  most  powerful  on  earth,  and  will,  if  the  States 
keep  united,  hold  the  balance  of  power.  I  did  not  think 
republicanism  could  be  so  favorable  to  a  valorous  spirit  as 
it  has  proved  to  be  in  that  country." 

"  They  are  worthy  of  their  origin,"  added  the  English- 
man, complacently,  and  in  the  true  style  and  spirit  of  his 
countrymen.  "  They  retain  the  blood  of  their  ancestors, 
and  it  would  be  unnatural  for  them  to  go  to  war  with  us." 

"  A  war  would  be  greatly  deprecated,  under  any  circum- 
stances," said  the  fat  lawyer.  "  It  is  therefore  to  be  hoped 
they  will  be  too  prudent  to  give  any  aid  to  the  attempt  of 
the  insurgents  in  this  country  to  overturn  the  government, 


VALOR  COMPARED. 


347 


for  that  would  be  a  virtual  declaration  of  war,  and  would 
be  so  understood  and  treated  by  the  Crown." 

We  listened  with  a  good  deal  of  curiosity,  and  were  not 
a  little  amused  at  the  commentaries  upon  the  valor  of  our 
nation  as  displayed  in  our  past  history.  At  one  time,  my 
national  feeling  was  riled  considerably,  and  I  was  tempted 
to  obtrude  a  reply  to  their  bragging  about  the  ease  with 
which  our  country  could  be  whipped  by  old  England,  by 
referring  them  to  New  Orleans  and  some  of  our  naval 
engagements.  But  I  screwed  up  my  self-control  and  kept 
silence,  simply  to  learn  what  other  people  think  of  us,  for 
no  one  suspected  us  of  being  Americans.  And  when  they 
came  to  mention,  in  a  side-way  manner,  the  defeats  their 
nation  had  sustained  in  its  unnatural  and  unrighteous  con- 
flicts with  us,  I  felt  more  than  revenged — I  was  proud  at 
the  confession  ;  for,  peace-man  as  I  am,  I  can  not  be  indif- 
ferent to  praise,  when  expressed  under  such  circumstances. 
It  seemed  to  be  the  fulfilment  of  a  doggerel  verse  I  used  to 
hear  sung  when  a  boy. 

"  We'll  make  old  England's  children  know, 

We  are  the  brave  descendants 
Of  them  who  flogg'd  their  fathers  so, 

And  gain'd  their  Independence." 

There  is  a  feeling  of  selfishness  wrapt  up  in  all  bosoms 
of  which  it  is  not  easy  to  divest  one's  self.  This  feeling 
expands,  and  adapts  itself  to  circumstances — first,  the  indi- 
vidual, when  all  else  seems  to  stand  opposed  to  it ;  next,  the 
family  and  circle  of  particular  friends  ;  then,  the  neighbor- 
hood, town,  state,  or  nation.  The  highest  and  perfected 
state  of  the  human  soul  is,  when  it  comes  to  obey  the  Chris- 
tian law,  and  love  God  and  all  men,  to  feel  an  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  the  race,  rising  above  all  personal,  local,  and  na- 
tional considerations,  and  breathing  the  pure  atmosphere 
of  equal  justice,  and  universal  love  and  liberty.  But,  alas, 
for  poor  fallen  humanity  ;  how  few  there  are  who  are  able 
to  burst  the  fetters  of  exclusiveness  which  have  been  riveted 


348 


THE   ERRORS   OF  FEUDALISM. 


upon  the  first  impressions  of  childhood,  and  been  fastened 
closer  by  the  advance  of  years,  and  a  greater  familiarity 
with  the  workings  of  social,  political,  and  even  religious 
intercourse  and  authority.  The  tendency  of  church  and 
state  has  been  to  keep  the  soul  contracted  within  the  shell 
of  a  pure,  or,  at  best,  a  mixed,  selfishness  ;  and  thus  prevent 
the  full  development  of  those  better  principles  which  live 
deeply  in  the  human  heart,  and  manifest  themselves  under 
favorable  circumstances,  when  the  pure,  warm  sun  of  love 
and  truth  arouses  them  from  their  torpidity,  and  stirs  ihem 
to  high  and  noble  action.  There  are  times  wThen  every  man 
will  feel  better  than  his  actions  indicate  ;  when  his  heart 
will  relent  at  the  sight  of  suffering  itself  has  connived  at ; 
and  then  a  fearful  sense  of  responsibility  will  suggest  re- 
forms, and  the  adoption  of  new  and  more  comprehensive 
systems  of  effort,  which  will  accord  with  the  advanced 
steps  he  has  been  able  to  take. 

The  great  hindrance  in  the  wTay  of  human  progress  is 
found  in  the  old  and  erroneous  systems  which  had  their 
origin  in  ages  of  darkness,  when  a  spirit  of  pure  selfishness 
governed  the  nations,  and  kings,  priests,  and  nobles  ruled 
with  a  rod  of  iron.  From  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  every 
man  played  the  tyrant  over  his  fellow-man,  and  no  two  had 
an  interest  in  common,  or  felt  a  responsibility  too  sacred  to 
be  broken  at  pleasure,  unless  it  was  the  responsibility  of 
dependence,  and  subjection. 

The  aggregation  of  society,  subsequent  to  the  overthrow 
of  the  ancient  order  by  the  savage  hordes  of  northern 
Europe,  took  place  under  circumstances  unfavorable  to  the 
preservation  of  individual  rights  and  personal  freedom. 
Feudalism  had  its  birth  then,  and  the  church  sanctioned  its 
pretensions  for  its  own  advantage.  Might  became  the  law 
of  right,  and  religion  served  at  its  altar.  Holy  oil,  meant 
for  the  race  by  Him  who  established  the  "  perfect  law  of 
liberty"  and  bade  all  men  look  into  it,  was  stolen  and  secret- 
ed under  the  dark  and  solemn  mysteries  of  the  church,  to 
be  emplovpd  only  in  the  consecration  of  the  princes  of 


IN   CHURCH   AND  STATE 


3-19 


temporal  power,  who  first  swore  fealty  to  the  godless  de- 
mands of  the  priesthood.  And  thus  an  unnatural  union 
was  consummated  which  has  produced  a  large  progeny 
of  monsters,  which,  though  constantly  becoming  more  and 
more  imbecile,  because  less  frightful,  still  infest  the  world, 
and  inflict  many  miseries  upon  it  by  the  law  of  succession 
and  entail,  by  which  alone  the  monarchies  and  hierarchies 
of  the  present  day  pretend  to  have  any  claim  to  respect  or 
confidence.    But  monsters  can  not  propagate  their  species. 

Individual  character  has  been  formed  under  such  unfa- 
vorable influences,  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  wrong,  distrust, 
and  oppression  still  disfigure  it,  dry  up  the  sources  of  true 
philanthropy,  and  divest  it  of  half  its  glory,  by  making  it 
still  a  suppliant  at  the  feet  of  religious  pride,  and  political 
arrogance,  content  to  bury  itself  under  the  dark  folds  of 
royal  and  priestly  drapery.  The  human  mind  is  not  left 
free  to  prosecute  its  investigations  except  in  directions 
which  do  not  jeopardise  the  claims  of  superiors  The  Re- 
formation did  much — most  because  it  exhibited  the  spectacle 
to  the  world  which  has  never  been  wholly  obscured,  that 
there  is  in  human  nature  a  power  to  resist,  a  right  to  pro- 
test, and  a  necessity  for  reform.  It  was  not  what  Huss  and 
Luther,  and  Zuinglius,  and  Calvin  did,  but  what  they  begun 
to  do,  for  which  the  world  has  reason  to  be  grateful. 

It  is  a  pity  the  governments  of  the  earth,  and  the  coun- 
cils ot  the  church,  so  soon  sanctioned  and  adopted  what,  at 
first,  was  pronounced  to  be  illegitimate.  Caressed  and 
pampered  in  the  bosom  of  royal  profligacy,  the  church  soon 
became,  itself,  a  profligate  and  looked  with  disdain  upon 
the  principles  which  gave  it  birth,  if  the  mother  church 
fretted  and  scolded  at  the  partial  disavowment,  the  ambi- 
tious potentates  and  young  nobility  which  were  hatched  on 
the  occasion,  were  abundantly  satisfied,  and  royal  injustice 
and  oppression  had  no  cause  of  complaint.  The  act  itself 
was  little  more  than  the  separation  of  the  family.  But 
that  was  complete,  and  a  work  was  begun  which  must 
eventuate  in  the  final  deliverance  from  all  temporal  and 


350 


DISORDER   AND  EXTRAVAGANCE. 


spiritual  bondage,  the  setting  up  of  a  kingdom  and  dominion 
in  which  truth  and  righteousness  shall  rule  supreme,  and 
man  be  acknowledged  the  brother  of  his  fellow-man. 

Such  a  time  has  not  come  yet,  but  faith  sees  it  approach- 
ing. The  promise  and  prophecy  of  Him  who  can  not  lie 
foretell  it;  and  the  commotions,  agitations,  upheavings,  and 
reactions  of  the  world  indicate  it,  for,  on  the  whole,  there  is 
a  progress — a  religious,  political,  individual,  and  social  pro- 
gress. Confusion  must  always  precede  order,  and  change, 
improvement ;  as  the  breeze  precedes  the  shower,  and  dark- 
ness the  light.  Fire  is  produced  by  collision,  and  before 
the  sun  shone,  "  darkness  was  upon  the  face  of  the  mighty 
deep."  Old  forms  must  be  reduced  to  a  state  of  fusion,  or 
be  in  solution  before  principles  can  be  precipitated,  and  new 
forms  be  assumed  by  the  primary  law  of  adhesion  or  crys- 
talization.  So  the  incrustation  of  society  must  be  broken 
up,  and  men  be  led  back  of  "  magna  chartas,"  and  the 
mis-shapen  forms  of  aristocracy,  to  first  principles,  and  the 
primitive  laws  by  which  God  governs  the  world  and  holds 
every  man,  and  society  itself,  responsible  to  answer  as  it 
has  answered  in  time  past,  and  will  do  again  before  a  more 
fearful  judgment  which  is  approaching,  and  which  no  man 
can  escape. 

Of  course,  disorder,  confusion,  and,  in  some  cases,  mad 
extravagance  will  attend  such  a  breaking  up  of  the  founda- 
tions of  the  mighty  deep,  into  which  individuals  and  nations 
have  been  plunged  by  the  accumulate  oppressions  of  cen- 
turies, which  kings,  priests,  and  courtiers  have  inflicted  upon 
an  unsuspicious  and  long-suffering  community  ;  and  no  won- 
der, if  creatures  who  have  forgotten  their  manhood  to  make 
themselves  distinguished,  and  to  live  in  ease  and  affluence 
without  the  labor  of  meriting  a  decent  livelihood,  should  be 
most  loud  and  bitter  in  their  complaints.  Whose  pride  was 
ever  humbled,  or  his  sins  rebuked,  without  a  murmur  ?  Nor 
would  it  be  a  very  strange  procedure  if  vengeance  should 
seem  sweet  to  those  so  long  neglected,  oppressed,  and 
abused,  when  it  comes  their  turn  to  say,  in  the  language  of 


THE   PRECURSOR   OF  IMPROVEMENT. 


351 


old,  "  how  art  thou  become  as  one  of  us?"  And  yet  it  is  a 
fact,  not  to  be  passed  without  notice,  that  the  most  inhuman 
outrages  have  generally  been  committed  in  the  name  and 
under  the  sanction  of  what  the  nations  have  regarded  "  law 
and  order."  Multitudes  are  not  easiiy  incited  to  demonstra- 
tions of  revenge,  for  all  will  not  be  passionate  alike  at  the 
same  moment.  But  a  despot,  in  whose  hands  are  the  lives 
of  millions,  used  to  the  free  exercise  of  his  uncurbed  will, 
may  put  thousands  to  death,  merely  to  prevent  the  least  in- 
vasion of  his  absolute  sovereigntv  over  his  fellow  mortals, 
who  are  morally  and  intellectually  as  good  and  wise  as  him- 
self, and  no  one  may  open  his  mouth  but  at  his  peril ! 

In  the  sight  of  God  and  reason,  wherein  is  the  life  of 
a  man  covered  with  tinseled  robes,  with  a  few  gems  in  the 
cap  he  wears,  better  than  any  other  man's  ?    Was  he  not 
born  naked  and  helpless  as  any  other  child  ?    Does  he  not 
eat,  and  drink,  and  sleep  like  other  men  ?    Will  not  cor- 
ruption and  worms  devour  his  body  as  soon  ?    Do  not 
others  feel  pain  as  keenly  as  he  ?    Where,  then,  is  the 
proof  of  his  "  divine  right,"  and  in  what  is  his  life  and 
happiness  more  sacred  than  an  other's  ?    Then  why  should 
the  slaving  of  a  king  be  magnified  into  a  regicide,  which 
demands  a  severer  censure  than  the  thousands  slain  by  that 
same  king's  command  ?    Is  there  greater  enormity  in  one 
case  than  in  the  other,  when  weighed  in  the  scales  of  eternal 
justice  ?    Why,  then,  should  it  be  thought  an  act  of  so 
great  abhorrence  when  the  people,  the  masses,  attempt  to 
test  their  manhood,  by  standing  up  before  priests  and 
princes,  and  proclaiming,  in  God's  name,  the  natural  and 
eternal  law  of  equal  rights  and  mutual  responsibility,  by 
which  society  should  be  governed  ?    And  why  should  men 
be  of  faint  heart  while  the  struggle  for  such  liberty  is  go- 
ing on  ?    Rather  should  the  true  and  faithful  be  of  good 
courage,  and  "  hope  unto  the  end,"  for  such  a  victory  shall 
be  won — such  a  triumph  is  as  certain  as  that  a  just  God 
rules  in  the  "  armies  of  heaven,  and  among  the  inhabitants 
of  earth."    No  power  of  kings,  no  machinations  of  priests 


352 


JUSTIFICATIONS   FOR   A  REPUBLIC. 


and  politicians  can  prevent  it.  He  who  holds  the  hearts 
of  all  men  in  his  hand,  and  can  turn  them  at  His  pleasure, 
before  whom  the  nations  are  as  nothing,  and  less  than  va- 
nity, will  hearken  to  the  cry  of  the  oppressed,  and  give 
liberty  to  captives  !    Even  so  ! 

Such  were  some  of  the  reflections  which  floated  through 
my  mind,  as  I  listened  to  the  conversation  of  these  admi- 
rers of  royalty  and  supporters  of  exclusive  privileges, 
and  my  night  visions  were  haunted  by  striking  contrasts 
between  the  actual  condition  and  prospects  of  Europe  and 
my  own  country.  I  felt  that  I  was  approaching  the  very 
scenes  of  which  report  had  brought  the  most  exciting  ac- 
counts before  I  left  home ;  that  I  was  near  the  vortex  of 
that  fearful  crater,  where  the  elements  of  royalty,  feudal- 
ism, and  aristocratic  privileges,  were  melting,  and  fusing 
together,  and  the  democratic  principle  was  assuming  new 
and  strange  forms — hideous  and  alarming  to  those  unfami- 
liar with  the  workings  of  free  thought,  as  manifested  in  the 
changed  relations  of  social  life.  I  confess,  that  with  all 
my  love  and  admiration  of  the  largest  liberty,  and  glowing 
sympathy  with  the  common  people,  and  hearty  detestation 
of  the  arrogant  and  wicked  pretensions  to  any  thing  like 
special  right,  and  privilege,  and  superiority,  except  that 
founded  upon  actual,  personal  merit,  I  could  not  forbear 
the  thought  that  it  was  a  fortunate  time  when  the  republi- 
can principles  of  our  government  were  proclaimed,  and 
that  ours  is  a  peculiar  people. 

Few  nations  are  equal  to  the  establishment  of  a  demo- 
cratic republic.  The  love  of  power  and  privilege  has  too 
deep  a  hold  on  most  hearts  ;  and  the  masses  are  too  igno- 
rant of  their  own  strength,  and  the  proper  method  of  using 
it — are  too  little  inclined  to  combine  and  act  in  union — are 
too  easily  deluded  from  the  support  of  their  principles,  and 
defence  of  their  rights,  by  the  flatteries  and  vain  promises 
of  intriguers,  who  will  do  any  thing  to  make  game  of 
them,  and  to  assist  the  nefarious  designs  of  crafty,  plotting 
men,  whose  selfishness  controls  every  other  sentiment  of 


PRINCIPLE   ESSENTIAL  TO  FREEDOM. 


353 


their  souls,  and  makes  them  the  oppressors  of  their  fellow- 
men,  invaders  of  the  most  sacred  rights  God  has  vouch- 
safed to  the  sons  of  men.  And  I  already  see  the  mighty 
obstacles  to  be  encountered  by  those  whose  views  have 
outgrown  the  institutions  under  which  they  live,  and  whose 
aspirations  move  them  to  undertake  the  work  of  se-lf- 
deliverance. 

There  is  here,  as  every  where,  a  class  of  men  who  have 
gifts,  and  claim  to  be  wise,  who  are  in  the  market,  ready 
to  be  bought  up  by  the  party  offering  the  highest  price. 
Principle  with  them  is  nothing  but  an  article  of  traffic — 
a  proposition  on  which  to  found  a  plea,  if  it  suit  their  turn. 
Such  will  stand  by  their  clients  to  the  last,  for  their  fee  de- 
pends upon  it.  Unfortunately,  this  class  too  often  enjoys 
the  confidence  of  the  masses,  who,  modest  in  their  con- 
scious incapacity,  look  with  trusting  favor  upon  their  fair 
pretensions  and  solemn  asseverations,  and  are  too  often  be- 
trayed into  conditions  more  wretched  and  hopeless  than 
those  from  which  they  undertook  to  deliver  themselves. 
Ours  was  a  young  nation.  There  were  no  leaders.  The 
people  went  for  themselves.  Each  felt  that  he  was  free  ; 
that  none  had  any  right  to  exercise  authority  over  him. 
The  government  was  the  voice  of  the  whole  concentrated, 
and  the  Constitution  the  rule  by  which  that  voice  should  be 
uttered.  But  here  there  is  little  chance  for  such  a  revolu- 
tion.   The  people  are  not  capable. 

In  the  first  place  the  masses  are  not  informed.  They 
have  no  consciousness  of  their  own  rights.  Secondly,  they 
are  not  united.  No  common  sympathy  attracts  them  to- 
gether. They  are  alike  dissatisfied  with  the  government, 
and  complain  bitterly  of  their  wrongs.  But  what  one  con- 
demns an  other  approves.  They  have  no  confidence  in 
their  leaders,  nay,  not  so  much  as  in  one  an  other.  They 
have  no  principle  of  union,  no  one  point  of  agreement. 
What  can  be  expected  from  this  state  of  distraction  but 
failure  in  every  attempt  that  shall  be  made  ?  It  was  union 
that  gave  success  to  the  American  cause.    All  jealousies 

30* 


354 


WANT   OF  UNITY. 


were  banished,  local  considerations  waived,  and  the  co- 
lonies united  as  with  the  heart  of  one  man.  They  strug- 
gled together,  and  triumphed.  There  is  no  such  feeling 
here.  The  hostility  is  common,  but  nothing  else.  The 
whole  country  is  split  into  fragments,  and  the  factions  are 
bitter  and  unrelenting  in  their  hate.  The  energies  of  the 
people  are  destroyed,  for  in  nothing  can  they  make  com- 
mon cause.  Religion,  and  politics,  and  local  prejudices, 
imbitter  their  feelings,  and,  except  in  their  hatred  of  the 
English  government,  there  is  no  agreement  among  them. 
They  would  as  soon  fight  one  of  their  own  countrymen, 
from  Ulster  or  Connaught,  an  "  Orange-man,"  a  "  Ribbon- 
man,"  a  "Molly  Maguire,"  or  " Corkonian,"  as  a  red-coat 
of  the  Queen's  army.  The  meaning  and  force  of  that 
new  and  expressive  word  "  fraternization"  is  not  under- 
stood ;  and  nothing — yes,  nothing,  can  be  done.  They 
will  not  act  in  concert.  O'Brien  and  Mitchel  are  Protest- 
ants. Some  others  are  Catholics.  But  all  agreement  be- 
tween these  leaders  is  looked  upon  with  suspicion  by  the 
masses ;  and  division  and  failure  must  ensue.  It  can  not 
be  avoided. 

We  passed,  during  the  night,  Tullamore,  the  present,  and 
Phillipstown,  the  former  capital  of  King's  county,  and 
some  other  smaller  towns.  The  former  I  should  judge  to 
be  a  place  of  considerable  business,  and  of  modern  and  re- 
spectable appearance.  The  others  we  did  not  see.  Most 
of  the  way,  I  am  told,  the  land  is  low,  boggy,  and  unculti- 
vated, with  only  here  and  there  a  plantation  or  a  village. 

On  going  upon  deck,  this  morning,  I  found  some  addi- 
tion had  been  made  to  the  list  of  our  passengers,  for  seve- 
ral were  stretched  about,  sleeping  with  no  covering  but  the 
lid  of  night,  hung  about  with  a  drapery  of  clouds.  The 
heavy  dew  had  wet  their  thin,  coarse  garments,  but  they 
heeded  it  not.  Men  and  women  were  lying  about  promis- 
cuouslv,  and  with  little  regard  to  the  rules  of  delicacv. 

We  met  with  nothing  to  cheer  the  sluggishness  of  our 
spirits  till  we  arrived  at  Sallins,  where  we  were  trans- 


APPROACH   TO  DUBLIN. 


355 


ferred  to  the  cars  which  conveyed  us  to  Dublin.  The 
country  continues  to  improve  as  we  approach  the  city. 
Industry  has  turned  the  natural  richness  of  the  soil  to  a 
better  account.  Good  taste  is  displayed  in  the  order  and 
neatness  of  the  houses,  and  grounds  about  them.  The  ap- 
proach to  Dublin  is  remarkably  beautiful,  exceeded  by  few 
cities,  especially  if  seen  as  I  saw  it,  after  a  wearisome 
journey,  amid  destitution  and  misery,  and  on  a  clear,  sweet 
spring  morning. 

Before  us  opened  the  sweet  valley  of  the  Liffey ;  ex- 
panding as  it  reaches  off  to  the  sea ;  reflecting,  in  the  dis- 
tance, the  slanting  rays  of  the  early  sun  upon  its  mirror- 
surface.  The  tall  spires,  and  loftier  towers,  partially  en- 
veloped in  hazy  clouds  of  smoke,  indicated  the  locality  of 
the  city.  On  the  right  towered,  in  the  distance,  a  range 
of  sombre  hills,  trending  east  and  south,  whose  nether 
ridges  were  not  yet  illumined  by  the  rising  sun.  All 
around  us  was  a  beautifully  undulating  champaign  coun- 
try, with  some  richly  cultivated  lands,  elegant  plantations, 
and  princely  mansions  scattered  about ;  while  behind,  as 
wre  fondly  believed,  were  left  the  lonely  bogs,  the  dilapida- 
ted hovels,  and  the  gaunt  forms  of  oppressed  and  famine- 
stricken  humanity  which  had  marred  so  much  of  the  coun- 
try through  which  we  had  passed.  An  oasis  had,  at  last, 
been  reached,  in  what  had  been,  hitherto,  comparatively  a 
human  desert,  and  henceforth  the  brighter,  the  sunny  side 
of  Irish  life  only  was  to  appear.  Dublin  was  to  efface — to 
atone  for  all  the  rougher  social  aspects  of  the  country  of 
which  it  was  the  boasted  capital — to  be  the  diamond  set  in 
pearls,  glittering,  in  its  repose,  on  the  bosom  of  the  Eme- 
rald Isle. 

Fond  delusion  !  how  quickly  dispelled !  A  brief  half- 
hour  brought  u^  to  the  city,  and  tumbled  in  ruins  the  beau- 
tiful castle  which  our  imagination  had  reared.  Here,  as  in 
all  the  places  I  have  visited,  were  presented  the  extremes 
of  wealth  and  refinement,  and  want  and  moral  degradation. 
Here,  where  had  been  located  our  Irish  paradise,  fell  on  the 


35G 


RAILROAD  STATION. 


ear  the  old  note  of,  "  An'  may  the  Almighty  God  give  ye 
moony  blessings  an'  a  happy  journey,  an'  ye'll  be  giving  me 
a  ha'-penny,  to  buy  bread  for  till  ate." 

"  It  is  Ireland  still,"  remarked  my  friend,  as  we  passed 
out  of  the  station-house. 

"  Who  can  doubt  it,"  I  replied,  '*  with  such  unquestiona- 
ble proofs  of  the  fact  before  us  ?" 

Then  came  the  usual  retinue  of  car-men  and  porters,  and 
all  the  attendant  nuisances  of  such  localities.  We  did  not 
rush  through  the  multitude,  but  stopped  to  take  a  look  at  the 
buildings  of  the  "  Depot" — Stations,  they  call  them  here, 
as  we  ought  to  in  our  country.  "  Depots"  are  for  goods  ; 
"  Stations"  for  passengers.*  It  is  a  remarkably  light  and 
airy  building,  but  of  immense  size.  I  did  not  measure  it, 
but  should  guess  it  to  be,  at  least,  five  hundred  feet  long, 
and  one  hundred  and  fifty  wide.  Eight  tracks  are  laid  with 
spaces  for  carriages  and  walks  for  foot  passengers.  The 
side- walls  of  the  main  building  are  of  brick,  but  all  the 
rest,  columns  and  roof,  is  of  iron.  A  line  of  windows,  on 
both  sides  of  the  ridge,  makes  it  as  light  as  if  there  was  no 
cover.  The  walls,  posts,  rods,  and  under  side  of  the  roof 
are  all  painted  white.  A  large  platform,  where  the  baggage 
is  received  and  delivered,  on  one  side  of  which  are  the 
baggage  rooms  and  offices  for  the  sale  of  tickets,  is  kept 
clear  of  all  persons  not  employed  by  the  company.  Be- 
yond this  is  the  main  entrance  to  the  building,  the  rooms 
for  passengers,  and  offices  for  the  transaction  of  business. 
This  portion  is  in  process  of  completion.  It  is  a  massive 
structure,  of  hewn  stone,  richly  sculptured,  and  every  way 
grand  and  beautiful. 

As  I  looked  upon  its  swelling  buttresses,  its  lofty  tower, 
and  its  smaller  turrets,  its  arched  door  ways,  and  ornamented 
windows,  and  thought  of  the  condition  of  the  people,  and 
the  old  castles  I  had  seen,  I  could  not  refrain  from  thinking 

*  Even  in  France  and  Germany  the  English  word  "station" — sta-ci-on — 
sta-ti-on  is  used.  Railroads  are  ot"  English  origin,  and  hence  the  word.  »Sin.gu- 
lar  we  should  borrow  a  French  word.    It  is  bad  taste,  and  worse  judgment. 


UTILITY   BEFORE  EXTRAVAGANCE. 


357 


that  feudalism  still  lives — lives  in  all  its  force  and  tyranny, 
but  changed  from  man  to  money,  which  is  now  the  lord, 
while  the  poor  people  are  vassals  still,  and  as  much  as  ever 
crouch  beneath  its  ponderous  burthens.  It  is  said  the  rear- 
ing of  such  structures  gives  employment  to  the  people,  and 
scatters  money  and  comforts  among  them.  If  it  does,  it 
soon  recalls  it  and  leaves  the  result  of  labor  piled  into  a 
mass,  to  be  controlled  by  a  monopoly  which  looks  to  some- 
thing else  than  the  permanent  improvement  of  the  laboring 
classes.  Pride  and  interest  so  befog  the  minds  of  corpora- 
tions that  the  blood  and  sweat  of  the  laborer,  the  comforts 
of  his  wife  and  education  of  his  children,  are  not  often  seen 
to  be  of  much  consequence,  by  what  scattered  fragments 
may  be  left.  The  feudal  lord  loved  his  vassals  in  propor- 
tion as  they  served  his  pride  and  interest.  What  do  cor- 
porations more,  whether  employed  in  railroads,  coal  mines, 
steam  navigation,  or  the  manufactories  of  cotton  or  woollen 
goods,  cutlery,  or  paper  money,  or  in  rearing  proud  temples 
for  the  service  of  the  humble  Nazarene  ? 

It  would  be  well  enough  to  lay  out  money  in  any  piece 
of  foolish  extravagance,  if  such  extravagance  did  not  foist 
a  class  into  a  position  permanently  pernicious  to  the  inte- 
rests of  the  common  people — if,  as  in  early  christian  days, 
u  all  things  were  to  be  common."  But  the  very  fact  that 
such  dead  works,  as  can  not  be  made  useful,  are  the  privileges 
of  the  few,  and  calculated  to  excite  a  feeling  of  envy  and 
discontent  in  the  breasts  of  those  who  can  never  aspire  to 
possess  them,  nor  their  like,  is  enough  to  make  their  con- 
struction of  doubtful  utility.  As  works  of  art  they  are  very 
well,  for  all  can  look  at  them,  and  they  become  common 
property.  As  castles  for  the  rich,  and  palaces  for  the  proud, 
be  they  individuals  or  bodies,  they  are  pernicious,  and  be- 
token an  evil  spirit,  because  partial  and  exclusive.  I  do 
not  object  that  a  man  should  build  his  house  to  suit  his  taste 
and  promote  his  comfort ;  it  is  his  right,  and  no  man  should 
oppose  or  restrict  the  exercise  of  it ;  but  if  he  robs  ten  men 
of  their  houses  to  do  it,  the  moral  of  the  act  is  questionable 


358 


THE   USEFUL  BEFORE  THE  ARTIFICIAL. 


I  think  the  act  itself  reprehensible.  The  rearing  of  this 
Station-house  is  very  well ;  and  those  ornaments  look  very 
fine,  but  they  contrast  badly  with  the  poverty  and  suffering 
about  them — like  a  jewel  in  a  swine's  snout. 

Mark,  gentle  reader,  I  do  not  object  that  these  things  are 
done,  but  that  the  other  is  left  undone.  This  may  be  the 
means  of  elevating  and  improving  the  masses,  and  promoting 
general  prosperity,  but  the  history  of  the  past  renders  it 
very  doubtful.  Convenience  before  extravagance,  comfort 
before  ornament,  nature  before  art,  respect  and  love  for  all 
before  the  apotheosis  of  a  few.  Such  is  the  spirit  of  the 
true,  the  working  of  the  good.  Philanthropy — a  broad, 
limitless  benevolence,  which  stoops  to  relieve  the  wants  of 
the  humblest  sufferer  of  wrong,  now  calls  aloud  and  asks  to 
be  heard.  Humanity  is  the  thesis  to  be  studied  ;  its  rights, 
its  duties,  its  developments,  are  the  problems  to  be  solved. 
Christianity  must  be  made  practical.  A  sound  wisdom 
must  mould  anew  the  plastic  elements  of  society,  now  fused 
and  solved  by  the  fervid  revolutions  of  the  past.  The 
nebulous  sky  is  clearing  up  ;  the  misty  darkness  disappears. 
Rays  of  light  and  hope  are  breaking  through  from  every 
quarter  of  heaven.  A  better  day  is  coming.  Some  turgid 
forms  still  live.  Monarchy  has  not  doffed  his  crown,  nor 
superstition  her  cowl,  nor  pride  her  feathered  cap,  but  know- 
ledge in  the  hands  of  the  people,  will  lay  the  heads  of  all 
bare,  and  justice  claim  her  right.  Righteousness  shall 
dwell  in  the  earth,  and  liberty  be  established.  Such  is  the 
purpose  of  God.    Who  shall  hinder  it  ? 


CITY    OF  DUBLIN 


On  quitting  the  station,  the  first  object  that  met  our  eye 
was  the  massive  obelisk  of  Wellington,  erected  in  honor  of 
that  illustrious  Irishman.  It  stands  on  the  opposite  bank  of 
the  Liffey,  at  the  entrance  to  Phoenix  Park,  and  makes 
an  imposing  appearance.  The  base  upon  which  it  stands 
can  not  be  less  than  a  hundred  feet  square,  and  twenty 


AN  ENTHUSIAST. 


359 


feet  high,  which  is  ascended  by  steps.  The  pedestal  must  be 
over  fifty  feet  square  and  twenty  high,  from  which  the  obelisk, 
about  twenty  feet  square,  rises,  I  should  think,  a  hundred 
and  fifty  feet,  tapering  gradually  to  the  summit,  making  the 
entire  height  two  hundred  feet.  The  sides  of  the  shaft  are 
lettered  with  the  names  of  the  places  where  the  "  noble 
Duke"  displayed  his  skill  in  killing  his  fellow-men,  beginning 
with  India  and  ending  with  Waterloo.  On  one  side  of  it  is 
a  pedestal  designed  to  support  an  equestrian  statue  of  the 
hero,  when  he  has  himself  rode  into  eternity. 

Following  the  street  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Liffey,  we 
soon  found  ourselves  in  a  handsome  and  busy  city.  Splen- 
did bridges,  elegant  buildings,  gay  shops,  and  a  busy  people, 
impressed  us  favorably  with  the  town,  Without  much 
trouble,  we  found  our  way  to  the  house  to  which  we  had 
been  recommended  by  a  Quaker  friend,  whom  we  met  on 
our  way  up  the  Shannon. 

Having  secured  our  lodgings,  we  started  out  to  take  a 
view  of  the  city,  and  see  and  learn  what  we  could  of  the 
capital  of  the  kingdom.  We  had  no  guide,  no  plan  ;  barely 
a  general  idea  of  what  was  to  be  seen  in  the  way  of  public 
buildings,  parks,  and  people.  Resolved  to  make  the  best 
use  of  our  time,  we  commenced  on  a  street  leading  south, 
turning  off  to  the  east,  and  so  round  by  the  north,  to  prevent 
the  necessity  of  going  over  the  same  ground  again. 

The  first  portion  looked  old  and  neglected,  but  respecta- 
ble. We  soon  came  to  a  better  portion,  where  the  streets 
were  wide,  the  buildings  new,  and  every  thing  neat  and 
elegant.  Stopping  to  look  at  a  new  and  handsome  church, 
we  were  accosted  by  a  man  who  volunteered  to  describe  it, 
and  also  give  a  lecture  on  the  heresy  of  the  doctrines  taught 
in  it,  and  the  abominations  of  the  papal  practices  performed 
in  an  other  near  by.  From  these  he  passed  to  an  other  theme 
and  undertook  to  enlighten  us  upon  some  peculiar  points 
of  theology  he  thought  himself  commissioned  to  advocate. 
Whether  the  fellow  was  an  enthusiast  or  a  maniac,  I  could 
not  determine,  for  the  resemblance,  in  such  cases,  is  often 


360 


THE  SHELTER. 


so  intimate  that  it  is  difficult  to  do  so.  We  bore  with  him 
till  our  patience  failed  us.  We  tried  to  treat  him  respect- 
fully ;  but,  in  such  cases,  that  is  not  enough,  for  such  men 
claim  a  sort  of  "  divine  right,'"'  analogous  to  the  authority 
of  kings.  He  insisted  on  our  hearing  him  through,  and 
even  threatened  us  if,  we  would  not  embrace  his  peculiar 
notions,  with  the  most  terrible  punishments.  We  told  him 
we  had  come  to  Ireland  to  see  and  learn  something  about 
the  actual  in  human  condition ;  the  theological  we  had  at 
home,  in  all  its  varieties;  and,  besides,  we  did  not  think  the 
open  street  a  proper  place  for  lectures  on  religious  topics. 
He  persisted  in  his  right  to  our  patient  attention,  and  became 
so  earnest  in  his  harangue  that  our  Yankeeism  would  en- 
dure it  no  longer  and  we  started.  He  followed  us  with 
bitter  threats  and  fearful  imprecations,  for  spurning  his  of- 
fered grace. 

Well,  thought  I,  there  is  every  thing  here  to  produce  agi- 
tation— the  elements  of  a  fervid  and  eternal  antagonism, 
the  sources  of  the  bitterest  and  most  resentful  malice,  as 
well  as  the  widest  disparity  in  the  temporal  condition  of  the 
people.  But  my  friend  said  the  fellow  was  crazy,  although 
he  claimed  to  be  a  preacher  to  a  large  congregation. 

A  little  farther  on.  we  came  to  the  "  Shelter,"  a  benevo- 
lent institution,  founded  for  the  protection  and  reformation 
of  discharged  female  convicts.  Having  taken  some  inte- 
rest in  a  like  institution  in  our  own  city,  established  in  con- 
nexion with  the  "  Prison  Discipline  Society,"  we  desired  to 
inquire  into  the  workings  of  one  which  had  existed  long 
enough  to  test  the  humane  experiment.  Accordingly,  with 
true  Yankee  impertinence,  we  presented  ourselves  at  the 
door,  and  asked  to  see  the  matron.  We  were  invited  into 
a  neat  sitting-room,  by  a  young  woman  of  very  respectable 
appearance.  In  a  few  minutes  the  matron  entered.  We 
introduced  ourselves  as  strangers  from  America ;  but  as 
friends  of  the  race,  and  lovers  of  virtue  and  benevolence, 
every  where ;  and  as  anxious  to  inquire  into  the  processes 
and  progress  of  philanthropy  in  the  older  country.  She 


ITS  MANAGEMENT. 


361 


received  us  cordially,  and  entered,  at  once,  into  an  expla- 
nation of  the  origin,  progress,  and  condition  of  the  institu- 
tion under  her  charge.  It  is  a  voluntary  society,  sustained 
by  private  benevolence  and  the  industry  of  the  inmates. 
Like  all  such  institutions,  it  has  had  many  difficulties  to 
encounter,  not  the  least  of  which  have  been  produced  by 
religious  hostility.  There  are  some  people  who  must  have 
every  thing  done  in  their  own  way,  and  all  the  honor  ap- 
propriated to  a  particular  sect  or  party,  or  they  will  do  no- 
thing, but  prevent  all  they  can.  The  "  Shelter"  has  exist- 
ed several  years,  and  outlived,  in  part,  such  hostility,  and 
has  now  many  friends  among  the  benevolent  of  various 
names  and  ranks.  Here,  in  addition  to  the  religious  castes 
of  our  countrv,  there  are  the  social  and  political  to  be  en- 
countered. 

The  matron,  I  should  judge,  from  her  dress,  is  a  Qua- 
keress in  her  associations.  She  is  an  immensely  large  wo- 
man, larger  than  the  Superior  we  saw  in  the  school  at  Li- 
merick. My  friend  says  she  is  the  largest  woman  he  ever 
saw.  She  is  over  six  feet,  and  well  proportioned  ;  rather 
masculine,  but  modest  and  agreeable.  She  conducted  us 
about  the  establishment,  contrary  to  the  custom  not  to  allow 
gentlemen  to  visit  it.  In  consideration  of  the  interest  we 
manifested,  and  for  the  regard  she  cherished  for  every 
American,  she  wished  to  signify  to  us  some  peculiar  honor. 
Every  part  of  the  building  exhibited  the  marks  of  the  ut- 
most neatness  and  order.  Every  thing  was  like  wax- work, 
from  the  coal-cellar  to  the  dormitories  in  the  garret.  The 
principle  employment  of  the  inmates  is  washing  and  iron- 
ing. For  this  purpose  most  excellent  arrangements  are 
made,  with  boilers,  tubs,  water,  tables,  heaters — every  thing 
necessary  for  convenience  and  dispatch.  The  house  is 
kept  well  aired,  and  the  inmates  are  remarkably  healthy ; 
scarcely  a  case  of  sickness  has  occurred  in  several  years. 
The  inmates  themselves  look  neat  and  health^,  and  some 
of  them,  in  their  personal  appearance,  are  really  handsome; 
none  are  ugly.    The  spoiler  always  seeks  the  fairest  ob- 

31 


362 


DIFFICULTIES   AND  SUCCESSES. 


jects.  Beauty  and  prettiness  are  always  dangerous — often 
ruinous  for  a  female,  unless  accompanied  by  strong  moral 
and  religious  principle,  the  only  safeguard  against  the  se- 
ductions of  flattery,  and  the  treachery  of  wicked  men. 
These  unfortunate  women  appeared  contented  and  cheer- 
ful, with  a  few  exceptions,  and  these,  we  were  told,  were 
of  recent  admission.  They  modestly  noticed  us  as  we 
passed,  and  kept  busy  at  their  work. 

I  have  forgotten  the  number  of  inmates  at  present  in  the 
"  Shelter."  The  matron,  Mrs.  Moore,  informed  us  that  the 
institution  nearly  supported  itself,  and  would  quite,  if  it 
could  have  custom  sufficient  to  employ  them  all  the  time. 
Some  objected  to  giving  them  their  work,  and  the  competi- 
tion is  so  great,  occasioned  by  so  many  girls  being  out  of 
employ,  that  they  were  obliged  both  to  reduce  the  price, 
and  suffer  for  the  want  of  custom.  Generally  speaking, 
she  assured  us,  the  girls  for  whom  she  had  obtained  places, 
had  turned  out  well.  But  it  was  very  difficult  to  get  good 
places  for  them.  Many  people  are  prejudiced  against  re- 
ceiving one  who  has  been  with  her,  and  others  are  not 
disposed  to  treat  them  well.  Some,  after  leaving  her,  had 
been  neglected  and  abused,  became  discouraged  and  fell. 
She  thought,  if  she  was  in  this  country,  she  could  do  much 
better — that  our  prejudices  are  less,  and  our  hearts  more 
liberal,  and  that  the  reformed  would  be  more  cherished, 
and  the  penitent  more  readily  forgiven  I  was  sorry  to  be 
compelled  to  correct  her  mistake,  and  to  assure  her  that, 
with  all  our  love  for  liberty,  and  approval  of  goodness,  and 
sympathy  for  the  oppressed,  our  Christianity  has  not  taught 
us  ';  to  receive  such  ones"  into  our  confidence,  and  encou- 
rage them  to  keep,  henceforth,  the  path  of  innocence.  We 
are  all  too  unforgiving;  and  thousands  now  welter  in  infa- 
my, who  might  have  been  saved  by  the  helping  hands  of 
generous  and  forgiving  professors.  Society  has  fearful  re- 
sponsibilities, and  Christians  too,  for  the  sins  of  omission, 
for  which  both  must  answer,  at  a  just  tribunal. 

She  thought  that  our  western  country  offered  opportuni- 


THE   SUFFICIENCY   OF  LOVE. 


303 


lies  for  the  settlement  of  people  beyond  the  reach  of  city 
temptations,  where  the  weakest  virtue  could  be  nourished 
and  become  strong.  I  found  she  labored  under  the  too 
common  mistake,  that  America  is  a  paradise  of  purity  and 
plenty,- where  the  poor  can  be  fed,  the  wicked  restored,  and 
all  made  happy.  It  was  sad  for  me  that  I  had,  so  often,  to 
break  the  illusion,  and  dispel  the  charm,  by  a  sober  descrip- 
tion of  the  reality.  Justice  demanded  it,  that  the  contem- 
plated projects  so  often  indulged  might  not  lead  to  unfore- 
seen disaster. 

One  thing  I  admired  very  much,  in  the  system  of  govern- 
ment established  in  the  "  Shelter."  It  is  purely  parental, 
and  based  on  "  love."  The  matron  assured  us  that  no 
other  would  succeed.  The  least  show  of  severity,  not  ac- 
companied by  an  expression  of  love,  was  most  fatal.  The 
experiment,  on  the  old  principle,  had  been  made,  and  sig- 
nally failed.  She  had  taken  the  opposite  course,  to  the  en- 
tire satisfaction  of  all.  Better  order,  more  work,  and 
truer  reforms  were  the  result.  She  believed  it  utterly  im- 
possible to  govern  an  institution  of  this  kind,  successfully, 
in  any  other  way.  These  poor,  crushed  creatures  must  be 
encouraged,  persuaded,  led ;  they  can  not  be  driven,  and  it 
is  worse  than  needless  to  attempt  it.  She  narrated  some 
incidents  which  had  occurred  in  the  course  of  her  experi- 
ence, to  sustain  this  position,  which  forcibly  illustrated  the 
sufficiency  of  love  to  correct  the  vices  of  the  most  de- 
praved. I  felt  my  heart  rejoiced  at  this  new  proof  of  the 
power  of  love,  and  thanked  my  God  that  these  Christian 
principles  were  finding  a  practical  adoption  in  the  reforma- 
tion of  the  deluded  and  abandoned  in  this  community.  I 
felt  stronger  and  better  resolved  than  ever.  We  left,  after 
mutual  expressions  of  pleasure  and  thankfulness  for  this 
accidental  visit  to  this  work-house  of  Christian  philanthro- 
py and  reform. 

From  thence  we  wandered  along  the  quays,  which  are 
no  more  than  continuous  walls  on  each  side  of  the  river, 
for  a  distance  of  more  than  two  miles.    These  walls  are 


301 


THE  LlPPBY. 


of  hewn  granite,  very  solidly  and  handsomely  built,  serving 
both  for  the  protection  of  the  streets  which  front  the  river,  on 
both  sides,  and  for  wharves  on  which  to  discharge  goods  from 
the  vessels  lying  beside  them.  Above  the  bridges,  little  use  is 
made  of  them  for  the  latter  purpose,  the  river  being  too 
shallow  to  admit  of  boating  at  low  water.  The  Lifley,  I 
should  remark,  would  be  reputed  a  small  affair  in  our  coun 
try.  It  is  not  so  large  as  the  Charles  river  at  Boston,  the 
Blackstone  at  Providence,  or  the  Mohawk  where  it  enters 
the  Hudson. 

We  noticed  a  large  number  of  coal  boats,  schooners, 
and  small  brigs  lying  along  the  south  quay,  with  their 
bows  to  the  shore,  like  a  row  of  steamboats  at  St.  Louis, 
from  which  the  coals  in  sacks  are  discharged  on  the  backs 
of  laborers,  over  narrow  gang-planks  arranged  along  the 
side  of  the  bow-sprits.  Hard  looking  fellows  are  those 
engaged  in  this  service. 

Nearly  every  thing  in  this  country  seems  to  be  done  at 
the  greatest  disadvantage.  Perhaps  it  is  well  it  is  so,  for, 
by  this  means,  employment  is  given  to  many  who  might 
otherwise  be  idle ;  but  the  consequent  high  price  of  every 
thing  on  which  such  needless  labor  is  employed  is  a  draw- 
back upon  the  economy  of  such  a  procedure.  In  our  coun- 
try a  horse  and  a  boy  would  do  the  labor  of  half  a  dozen 
men  engaged  in  this  business.  These  sacks,  holding,  per- 
haps, two  bushels,  were  arranged  along  the  quay,  with  men 
about  them  waiting  to  make  sales  to  such  customers  as 
might  come  along. 

We  saw  no  docks,  except  one  at  the  Custom-house,  and 
a  small  one  at  the  outlet  of  the  Grand  canal.  There  is  not 
a  large  amount  of  shipping  in  port,  beyond  the  small  vessels 
engaged  in  the  coasting  trade,  mostly  in  the  coal  business. 
On  one  or  two  ships  we  noticed  the  stars  and  stripes  float- 
ing proudly,  and  they  looked  better  to  us  than  we  ever  saw 
them  before.  We  counted  twelve  steamers,  black,  dirty 
things,  which  form  regular  lines  to  England,  Scotland,  and 
different  ports  in  this  country.    We  went  on  board  of  one 


THE  CUSTOM-HOUSE. 


3G5 


of  the  largest,  and  surve)Ted  the  different  parts  of  it.  At 
home  we  should  hardly  think  it  fit  for  a  tow-boat  for  emi- 
grants. The  main  cabin  wis  tolerable — expensive  enough ; 
but  lacking  the  neat  and  airy  appearance  of  our  boats.  Be- 
yond this,  no  respect  seemed  to  be  paid  to  the  convenience 
of  passengers. 

The  streets,  public  buildings,  private  houses,  and  sub- 
stantial bridges  along  the  Liffey,  are  objects  of  great  attrac- 
tion, and  much  of  to-day  has  been  spent  in  viewing  them. 
We  crossed  the  river  over  the  Carlisle  Bridge  to  see  the 
Custom-House,  the  elegant  front  of  which  we  had  seen 
while  coming  down  Westmoreland  street.  This  is  the  first 
bridge  over  the  Liffey,  up  to  which  the  smaller  vessels  can 
sail.  The  view  from  it  is  exceedingly  grand.  The  bay,  the 
shipping,  the  river,  crossed  by  seven  or  eight  bridges,  over 
which  teams  and  pedestrians  were  constantly  passing  and  re- 
passing, the  long  lines  of  stately  buildings,  on  either  side  of 
the  river,  the  famous  Sackville  street  with  the  general  post- 
office,  and  other  splendid  buildings,  hotels  and  shops,  and 
the  monument  of  Lord  Nelson  in  the  center,  with  a  gen- 
eral view  of  the  city  rising  on  both  sides.  I  never  looked 
on  a  city  prospect  more  varied  and  attractive.  The 
bridge  itself  is  built  of  hewn  stone,  on  three  arches,  and 
is  over  two  hundred  feet  long  and  forty  wide. 

We  loitered  about  the  Custom-House  some  time,  observ- 
ing the  building  and  the  mode  of  doing  business.  We  were 
most  taken  with  the  ornaments  which  decorate  it,  some 
of  which  appeared  to  be  strangely  out  of  place.  For  ex- 
ample, on  the  south  front,  over  the  pillars  of  the  portico, 
there  are  statues  of  Neptune,  Mercury,  Plenty  and  Industry. 
What,  in  the  name  of  humanity,  thought  I,  has  Plenty  to 
do  with  her  cornucopia  here  ?  It  should  be  t'other  end  up} 
at  any  rate,  while  the  multitudes  of  the  people  are  famish- 
ing with  hunger.  And  Mrs.  Industry  seems  to  find  few 
worshippers  in  this  land  of  general  idleness.  As  for  Messrs. 
Neptune  and  Mercury,  they  find  little  to  do  here,  unless  it 
be  to  carry  away.    The)7  bring  no  messages  of  good  from 

31* 


36G 


THE  POST-OFFICE. 


the  gods,  (lords)  Jove  or  Juno,  (John  or  Victoria,)  Mars  or 
Pluto — Thor  and  Hungr.  And  then  the  device  on  the  pedi- 
ment, in  alto  relievo,  representing  the  union  of  England 
and  Ireland,  by  Neptune  driving  away  Famine  and  despair, 
should  be  changed  by  making  Neptune  lead  the  fleet  to  sus- 
tain famine,  oppression,  and  despair,  while  the  latter  should 
take  the  place  now  occupied  by  Hope,  on  the  top  of  the 
dome,  the  flukes  of  whose  anchor  have  no  longer  a  hold  in 
Irish  hearts. 

The  Post-Office  is  an  elegant  and  massive  building,  front- 
ing over  two  hundred  feet  on  Sackville  street,  which  is 
here  a  dozen  rods  wide.  The  front  portico  is  eighty  feet 
wide,  with  six  coarse  fluted  Ionic  columns,  the  whole  sur- 
mounted by  a  rich  entablature.  Here,  too,  a  false  represen- 
tation is  made ;  Hibernia  is  seen  in  the  centre,  leaning  on 
her  spear,  and  holding  a  shield — the  former  should  be  broken, 
the  latter  thrown  under  her  feet.  On  the  right  is  Mercury, 
with  his  caduceus  and  purse — the  purse  should  be  empty; 
the  serpents  on  the  wand  are  well  enough.  On  the  left  is 
Fidelity  with  her  finger  to  her  lips,  and  a  key  in  her  hand — 
it  should  be  Mercury  touching  her  lips  with  his  wand,  for  it 
is  British  traffic  which  keeps  Ireland  silent,  though  ever 
faithful. 

Nearly  in  front  of  the  Post-Office  is  Nelson's  Pillar,  a 
single  Doric  column,  over  one  hundred  feet  high,  with  a 
statue  of  the  celebrated  naval  commander  on  the  top,  lean- 
ing against  the  capstan  of  a  ship.  A  winding  stairway 
goes  up  the  interior,  by  which  the  curious  ascend  to  take  a 
view  of  the  city. 

There  are  numerous  elegant  buildings  in  this  part  of  the 
city  which  exhibit  taste,  good  judgment,  and  abundant 
means ;  but  none  of  them  are  of  modern  construction. 
They  tell  of  better  days  ;  days  that  are  past,  it  is  feared, 
never  to  return. 

After  strolling  off  to  the  north-east  or  upper  part  of  the 
city,  and  taking  a  look  at  the  elegant  churches,  residences, 
and  respectable  streets  in  that  part,  we   returned  and 


ELEGANT  BRIDGES. 


367 


finished  our  examination  of  the  bridges.  Two  of  the 
most  elegant  are  the  Richmond  and  Whitworth,  connected 
by  a  handsome  iron  balustrade,  running  along  the  quay 
wall,  from  one  to  the  other,  seven  or  eight  hundred  feet,  in 
front  of  the  Four  Courts.  The  former  has  three  arches, 
the  key-stones  of  which  are  ornamented  with  the  heads  of 
Peace,  Hibernia,  and  Commerce,  on  one  side,  and  Plenty, 
Liffey,  and  Industry,  on  the  other.  The  latter  is  also  a 
handsome  structure,  on  the  site  of  the  oldest  bridge  over 
the  Liffey.  Above  these  are  Queen's,  King's,  Barrack,  and 
Sarah  bridges,  and  below,  the  Essex,  Metal,  and  Carlisle. 
These  are  all  substantial  and  elegant  works,  connecting 
both  parts  of  the  city,  which  are  nearly  equal.  The  Me- 
tal and  King's  bridges  are  of  iron,  forming  single  ellipti- 
cal arches,  of  about  one  hundred  feet  span.  The  Sarah 
bridge,  called,  also,  the  Irish  Rialto,  after  the  celebrated 
bridge  of  Venice,  it  being  somewhat  wider,  consists,  also, 
of  a  single  arch,  of  one  hundred  and  four  feet,  the  key- 
stone of  which  is  thirty  feet  above  the  bed  of  the  river. 

On  the  north  side,  not  far  from  the  Wellington  monu- 
ment, is  the  military  hospital,  a  splendid  pile  of  buildings, 
situated  on  a  high  terrace,  with  a  spacious  court  opening 
towards  the  river.  Companies  of  soldiers,  in  health,  are 
quartered  here  to  help  protect  the  diseased  city  from  a  col- 
lapse. There  is  no  room  for  them  in  any  of  the  barracks. 
All  are  crowded  to  their  utmost  capacity. 

In  the  heart  of  the  city,  are  the  Four  Courts,  one  of  the 
grandest  structures  we  have  yet  seen.  It  fronts  on  the 
river  four  hundred  and  sixty  feet,  standing  back  from  the 
wide  street  which  passes  between  it  and  the  quay.  It 
consists  of  a  main  building,  with  wings  extending  on 
each  side,  from  the  rear,  and  coming  out  to  the  front  line 
of  the  center,  leaving  open  squares,  which  are  shielded 
from  the  street  by  screens  of  rustic  masonry,  surmounted 
by  stone  balustrades.  Over  the  entrance  gate  to  the  east 
square,  is  the  Harp  of  Ireland,  attended  by  statues  of 
Justice,  Security,  and  Law,  on  a  shield  resting  on  law- 


3H8 


THE   FOUR  COURTS. 


books,  bound  together  by  a  serpent.  Over  the  west  is  the 
shield  of  Royalty,  wreathed  in  o;ik  leaves.  The  wings 
contain  the  offices  of  the  different  courts.  The  center 
building  contains  the  rooms  of  the  four  courts — "  Queen's 
Bench,"  "  Common  Pleas,"  "  Exchequer,"  and  "  Chancery," 
all  civil  courts.  The  criminal  court  is  in  an  other  part  of 
the  city.  In  the  center  of  the  main  building  there  is  a 
circle,  over  fifty  feet  in  diameter,  from  the  side  of  which, 
at  right  angles,  radiate  the  Four  Courts,  towards  the  cor- 
ners of  the  building.  The  entrance  to  each  court-room  is 
between  double  rows  of  Corinthian  columns,  twenty-five 
feet  high,  fluted  in  the  lower  third.  The  rooms,  we  were 
told,  were  of  equal  size,  and  handsomely  furnished,  The 
keeper  was  not  permitted  to  open  them  to  us.  Between 
the  courts  are  offices  for  the  jurors,  judges,  master  of  the 
rolls,  and  so  forth,  the  entrances  to  which  are  by  the  passages 
leading  into  the  circular  hall  from  the  four  sides  of  the 
building.  The  spaces  between  these  passage-ways  and  the 
pillared  entrances  to  the  court  rooms,  are  ornamented  with 
sunken  pannels  and  niches.  Above  all  is  a  rich  entabla- 
ture, extending  entirely  round,  from  which  arises  a  dome, 
open  at  the  top,  the  ceiling  of  which  represents  mosaics. 
Through  the  aperture  in  the  dome,  is  seen  a  superior  dome, 
in  the  lantern  which  crowns  the  summit  of  the  edifice,  like 
the  dome  of  the  Exchange,  in  Wall-street.  In  rooms 
around  this  dome,  are  kept  certain  records  of  the  court 
of  Queen's  Bench,  the  keeper  informed  us,  which  are 
drawn  up  through  the  aperture  in  the  dome,  by  means  of 
pullies  provided  for  that  purpose.  The  front  of  the  main 
building  presents  a  handsome  portico,  of  six  Corinthian  co- 
lumns, with  pilasters,  on  which  rests  a  heavy  pediment, 
upon  the  apex  of  which  is  a  statue  of  Moses,  with  Justice 
on  one  side,  and  Mercy  on  the  other,  and,  on  the  extremes, 
Wisdom  and  Authority. — The  latter  should  be  removed  to 
the  center,  and  all  the  rest  taken  down,  for  what  have  Jus- 
tice, and  Mercy,  and  Wisdom  to  do  in  Ireland,  now  ?  Mo- 
ses might  be  retained  with  his  law  of  "  blood  for  blood,  an 


PARLIAMENT  HOUSE. 


309 


eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth."  Behind  this  pile 
is  a  range  of  buildings  more  modern,  for  the  accommoda- 
tion  of  lawyers,  consulting-rooms.,  eating-rooms,  a  bank- 
ruptcy court — accommodation  for  the  outside  business  of 
litigation.  On  the  whole,  this  structure  has  pleased  me 
most  of  any  thing  I  ever  saw  of  the  kind. 

Adjoining  the  Four  Courts  is  St.  Paul's  church,  a  hand- 
some modern  building,  with  a  front  of  hewn  granite,  the 
portico  of  the  Ionic  order,  and  surmounted  with  a  chaste 
bell-tower  and  cupola. 

Crossing  the  Essex  bridge,  which  is  said  to  be  an  exact 
copy  of  Westminster  bridge,  London,  we  took  a  hasty  look 
at  the  old  Parliament  House,  now  the  Bank  of  Ireland.  It  is, 
as  a  specimen  of  architectural  design,  superior  to  the  Cus- 
tom House  or  Four  Courts,  and  said  to  be  inferior  to 
nothing  of  the  kind  in  Europe.  Its  center  fronts  on  Col- 
lege Green  ;  the  east  front  on  College-street ;  the  west,  on 
Foster  Place.  The  central  front  is  formed,  on  three  sides, 
of  a  colonnade  of  Ionic  columns,  resting  on  flights  of 
steps  ascending  from  the  court-yard,  separated  from  the 
street  by  a  screen- wall.  The  colonnade  is  entered  at  each 
end,  through  handsome  archways.  Over  the  center  co- 
lumns  is  raised  an  elegant  pediment,  ornamented  with  the 
royal  arms,  and  a  statue  of  Hibernia  on  the  apex,  with  Fi- 
delity on  one  side,  and  Commerce  on  the  other.  The  east 
front  has  a  splendid  portico  of  Corinthian  columns,  which 
sustain  a  pediment  surmounted  with  a  statue  of  Fortitude, 
in  the  center,  Justice  on  the  right,  and  Liberty  (!)  on  the 
left.  The  west  front  has  a  portico  of  Ionic  columns, 
crowned  with  a  plain  pediment.  Connected  with  this 
front  by  a  splendid  archway,  is  a  guard-room,  for  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  soldiers  stationed  here  to  protect  the 
treasures  of  the  bank.  We  noticed  sentinels  on  dutv  at 
the  entrances  to  the  building.  Money,  monarchs,  and  mili- 
tary stores  require  body-guards  to  keep  them  secure. 

The  buildings  of  Trinity  College  I  can  not  begin  to  de- 
scribe.   They  are  of  great  extent  and  elegance,  forming 


370 


TRINITY  COLLEGE. 


one  of  the  chief  architectural  attractions  of  this  fine  old 
city.  We  did  no  more  than  get  a  glimpse  of  the  interior 
arrangements,  a  large  portion  being,  at  present,  occupied  as 
a  barrack  for  the  soldiers  assembled  here  to  suppress  the 
rebellious  spirit  of  the  people,  and  maintain  "law  and  or- 
der;" the  like  of  which  was  witnessed,  not  many  years  ago, 
in  one  of  our  New  England  Universities,  and  for  a  similar 
purpose.  I  felt  my  hot  blood  so  stirred  at  the  sight  of  such 
a  base  prostitution  of  a  literary  and  scientific  establishment, 
that  I  took  no  interest  in  looking  about  it.  We  could  go 
no  where  without  meeting  a  guard  of  soldiers,  but  they 
seem  so  strangely  out  of  place  in  this  venerable  seat  of 
learning  that  I  preferred  to  look  at  them  in  the  castle,  where 
they  more  properly  belong,  and  leave  the  nobler  means  of 
education  to  be  viewed  in  other  and  more  peaceful  times. 
Tyranny  will  resort  to  any  means  to  sustain  its  ends,  and, 
when  its  very  existence  is  threatened,  it  often  receives  tri- 
bute and  honor  where  least  expected.  In  the  name  of 
"  law  and  order"  what  damnable  deeds  have  been  commit- 
ted with  impunity,  against  which  no  voice  is  permitted  to 
raise  a  complaint  but  at  a  fearful  peril !  Even  the  stars 
and  stripes  have  floated  over  such  iniquity,  and  the  eagle 
of  boasted  liberty  spread  her  wings  and  oped  her  beak  to 
crush  the  will  of  the  majority  expressed  peaceably,  distinct- 
ly, directly,  and  in  the  only  way  allowed  it ;  and  learned 
men,  and  clergymen  have  lent  the  sanction  of  their  names, 
the  music  of  their  voices,  the  persuasions  of  their  pens,  and 
the  halls  of  learning  entrusted  to  their  keeping,  to  help 
crush,  by  military  force,  the  majority  when  peaceably  strug- 
gling for  their  rights,  for  the  success  of  whose  cause  some 
of  them  had  previously  loaned  their  public  prayers ! 

What  makes  such  an  act  more  disgraceful  in  our  country 
is,  that  it  is  voluntary,  while  here  the  minions  of  royalty 
give  command,  and  none  dare  refuse  obedience.  With  us 
it  is  boasted  that  the  will  of  the  people  is  supreme  ;  that 
the  practical  working  of  republicanism  is  to  secure  indivi- 
dual liberty  and  right;  that  government,  derives  its  "just 


REVOLUTION   BETTER  THAN  OPPRESSION. 


371 


powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed,"  and  that  "  it  is 
the  right  of  the  people  to  alter  or  abolish  it"  But  " law 
and  order"  has  a  charm  which  conservatism  and  aristocracy 
reverence,  even  in  defiance  of  right,  and  humanity,  and  the 
plainest  demands  of  common  justice.  Republicans,  as  well 
as  despots,  can  terrify,  and  threaten,  and  control,  by  the 
awful  horrors  which  would  follow  the  invasion  of  the  sacred 

■ 

precincts  of  "  law  and  order  ;"  forgetting  that  governments 
are  yet  imperfect,  and  that  the  love  of  power  sometimes 
precludes  the  possibility  of  obtaining  redress  for  the  wrongs 
under  which  the  masses  still  suffer.  It  is  certainly  much 
the  best,  for  reforms  to  be  effected  without  revolution ;  but 
revolution  is  better  than  oppression ;  and  there  are  cases 
where  the  multitude  knock  in  vain  at  the  door  of  justice, 
especially  when  in  the  keeping  of  the  precious  few  who  are 
foolish  enough  to  think  themselves  divinely  appointed  to 
rule  their  fellow-men. 

The  necessity  which  compels  a  long  injured  people  to 
stand  up  in  defence  of  their  natural  rights,  and  battle  for 
the  elementary  principles  of  civil  liberty,  is  always  to  be 
deplored  ;  but  when  such  cases  do  exist,  we  count  it  noble, 
heroic,  glorious,  for  a  whole  community  to  arise  in  their 
strength,  united  and  determined,  in  God's  name,  declaring 
the  true,  maintaining  the  right,  and  defending  the  good, 
against  the  usurpations  of  the  individual  or  the  coterie,  who 
have  abused  their  privilege  and  oppressed  their  subjects. 
Subjects !  What  a  term  of  reproach  when  applied  to  the 
lords  of  this  lower  world  !  The  ruler  is  the  servant  of  the 
ruled.  Jesus  washed  his  disciples'  feet !  It  is  shame  to  that 
coward  heart  which  does  not  sympathize  with  the  move- 
ment of  the  masses  to  redress  their  wrongs,  throw  off  their 
fetters  and  repel  the  aggressions  of  the  tyrant  few,  who 
have  so  long  lorded  it  over  God's  heritage.  Their  souls  are 
withered  into  the  limits  of  the  narrowest  selfishness,  or  else 
they  are  so  bedazzled  with  the  pride  and  glory  of  earth, 
that  they  have  forgotten  that  there  is  a  Supreme  Governor 


372 


ABUSE  OF  LEARNING. 


before  whom  they  are  as  nothing,  and  to  whom  they  are 
under  a  fearful  responsibility,  which  they  can  not  escape  ! 

But  it  has  long  been  so,  that  the  masses  have  been  hewers 
of  wood  and  drawers  of  water,  for  a  self-created  nobility, 
which  has  borne  rule  over  them  with  an  iron  hand ;  and  it 
will,  doubtless,  long  continue  to  do  so;  certainly,  until  the 
people  come  to  know  their  rights  and  how  to  defend  them. 
It  is  a  sorry  reflection  that  many  who  become  enlightened 
do  not  retain  their  sympathies  for  those  in  whose  society 
they  once  mingled  on  equal  terms.  But  the  world's  allure- 
ments too  often  blind  their  eyes  and  steel  their  hearts,  to  the 
nobler  sentiments  of  a  living  humanity,  and  they  soon  flatter 
themselves  that  it  is  their  right,  almost  a  duty,  to  guard  the 
people  from  the  assertion  of  their  liberty  and  defence  of 
their  rights — to  hold  them  yet  awhile  longer  in  a  bondage 
the  most  servile  and  degrading.  Even  here  the  famous  old 
Trinity  is  turned  into  a  military  barrack,  for  the  comfort 
of  soldiers  sent  here  to  help  manacle  still  closer  this  turbu- 
lent and  long  oppressed  people.  Strange  that  this  college, 
with  its  vast  resources  of  men  and  learning,  has  not  advo- 
cated a  right  spirit  and  sent  out  pure  and  healthful  streams 
to  allay  the  turbulence  complained  of,  and  remove  the 
oppressions  which  cause  all  the  mischief  which  so  annoys 
the  government  Why  it  has  not,  becomes  plain  when  we 
know  that  learning  is  made  the  handmaid  of  royalty,  and 
confined  mainly  to  the  sons  of  the  nobility  and  gentry. 
There  is  much  aristocracy  in  learning.  The  sword,  the 
purse,  and  the  college  form  a  trinity  here.  Selfishness  may 
turn  the  highest  attributes  to  a  base  account.  The  people 
must  be  taught — general  knowledge  must  be  scattered 
among  them,  and  a  feeling  of  equality  and  self-respect  be 
possessed  by  all,  before  any  thing  like  true  liberty  can  exist. 
If  half  the  means  bestowed  upon  this  old  college,  these  mili- 
tary establishments,  and  these  work-house  unions,  had 
been  devoted  to  the  education  of  the  poeple,  Ireland  would 
this  day  be  a  rich,  powerful,  and  happy  nation,  the  right 
arm  of  the  British  throne,  loyal  in  all  her  attachments 


CARMELITE  CHURCff. 


373 


to  a  good  government.  But  abused,  oppressed,  and  ig- 
norant/how can  she  be  different  from  what  she  is? 

Near  our  abiding-place  is  a  friary,  and  Carmelite  church. 
Seeing  the  door  of  the  latter  open  we  went  in.  It  is  a  plain 
building,  appropriately  fitted  up  with  pictures  and  statues, 
for  that  form  of  worship.  Two  or  three  were  kneeling  in- 
side, muttering  their  prayers,  and  counting  their  beads.  By 
the  door  a  notice  was  posted  up,  requiring,  by  authority, 
certain  observances  in  the  forms  of  the  church.  On  leav- 
ing, we  were  met  in  the  vestibule  by  the  priest,  Father 
Tobin,  a  portly,  well-formed,  full-fed  Irishman,  with  a  long 
frock-coat  and  broad-brimmed  hat.  He  spoke  to  us,  and  we 
soon  entered  into  a  free  conversation,  upon  the  condition 
of  his  country  and  ours.  During  the  conversation  several 
poor  wretches  approached  us  to  beg.  He  ordered  them  ofT 
as  unfeelingly  as  if  they  had  been  brutes.  Some  little  girls 
came  along  whom  he  drove  away  with  words  of  authority. 
A  drunken  man  staggered  by,  to  whom  he  gave  some  harsh 
words,  calling  him  by  name.  Two  women  passed  of  lewd 
demeanor.  To  them  he  spoke  rebuking  words,  the  force 
of  which  they  seemed  to  feel.  All  these,  except  the  last,  did 
reverence  to  the  father,  as  they  passed,  bowing  or  courtesy  - 
ing;  the  drunken  man  did  not  succeed  very -well  with  his  bow, 
his  head  apparently  being  too  heavy  for  his  general  strength. 
The  priest  kept  on  his  conversation,  barely  suspending  a 
sentence  to  give  his  admonitions,  and  proceeding  as  if  no- 
thing had  occurred.  The  last  two,  however,  were  rather 
too  much  for  his  equanimity,  and  he  asked  us  to  step  into 
a  small  room  on  the  right  of  the  arched  entrance. 

Here  we  had  a  long  conversation,  or  rather  argument, 
for  it  assumed  that  form,  mainly  on  the  propriety  of  educat- 
ing the  common  people.  He  contended  that  it  was  dan- 
gerous to  give  them  knowledge,  unless  under  the  restraining 
influence  of  the  true  church.  I  assured  him  that  I  thought  his 
people  had  been  under  such  restraining  influence  quite  too 
long,  that  it  was  time  to  give  a  larger  liberty  for  the  mind 

32 


374 


DISCUSSION    WITH   A  PRIEST. 


to  expand  and  develop  its  powers,  and  that  no  permanent 
good  could  be  expected  for  this  country  till  such  a  revolu- 
tion in  the  moral  sentiment  had  been  effected.  This 
aroused  him  to  a  boisterous  harangue  on  the  wickedness  of 
introducing  the  Bible  into  public  schools,  or  teaching  chil- 
dren to  read  it  as  a  part  of  their  education.  My  friend, 
who  had  been  a  trustee  in  our  public  schools  at  home,  took 
up  this  branch  of  the  argument,  contending  for  the  proprie- 
ty and  importance  of  such  a  course. 

The  good  father  became  exceedingly  warm  in  the  de- 
bate, and  took  much  larger,  and  more  frequent  pinches  of 
snufF  than  before,  but  politely  offering  to  his  opponent  his 
box,  every  time.  The  debate  was.  to  me,  more  amusing 
than  instructive,  though  I  learned  something  of  the  haughty 
and  dictatorial  manner  which  this  class  of  men  exhibit,  oc- 
casioned by  the  method  of  their  training,  and  their  habits 
of  life.  He  seemed  to  be  greatly  disturbed  that  my  friend 
dared  to  question  his  positions,  or  refused  to  assent  to  his 
conclusions.  He  exacted  unreserved  assent  to  the  oracular 
correctness  of  his  assertions,  where  there  was  manifestly  an 
honest  difference  of  opinion.  This  my  friend  would  not 
yield,  informing  him  that  the  freedom  of  our  country  had 
allowed  him,  as  well  as  every  other,  to  think  for  himself, 
and  that  he  had  formed  his  opinions  from  observation  and 
study  ;  and,  till  convinced  of  their  incorrectness,  no  as- 
sumption of  authority  could  make  him  renounce  or  deny 
them.  The  father  was  much  nettled  at  this  sturdy  inde- 
pendence, and  waxed  warm  in  the  wordy  fight.  I  tried 
many  times  to  change  the  topic,  before  I  could  succeed,  by 
inquiring  about  the  prospect  of  things  in  reference  to  the 
present  movements.  Upon  these  he  refused  an  opinion, 
asserting  that  it  was  the  business  of  the  Church  to  "  sub- 
mit to  the  powers  that  be but  hinting  that  he  thought 
the  Protestant  leaders  had  usurped  too  much  influence  in 
the  present  commotions,  and  that,  therefore,  the  Catholics 
would  probably  abandon  them!'  With  an  expression  of 
thanks  on  our  part  for  his  attentions,  and  an  invitation  to 


THE  CASTLE. 


375 


call  on  us,  in  our  country,  and  taste  the  sweets  of  a  larger 
liberty,  we  parted,  with  his  benediction  and  prayers  for  a 
prosperous  journey  and  a  safe  return. 

Proceeding  on  our  way,  we  took  a  look  at  several  church- 
es of  different  orders.  I  use  the  word  church,  not  as  here, 
to  specify  those  used  by  the  Established  Church,  but  includ- 
ing all  houses  of  Christian  worship.  Some  of  them  are 
very  stately  and  elegant,  and  make  a  handsome  show,  and 
contrast  badly  with  the  miserable  habitations  about  them. 
I  need  not  specify  their  names.  All  these  cathedrals, 
churches,  chapels,  and  meeting-houses  present  a  full  share 
of  architectural  taste,  and  a  liberal  outlay  of  money  for  the 
support  of  religion. 

Returning,  we  passed  the  Corn  Exchange,  which  we  had 
looked  into  in  the  morning.  It  is  a  spacious  building,  of 
granite,  designed  for  merchants,  and  arranged  for  the  con- 
venient exhibition  of  samples  of  grain.  It  makes  a  hand- 
some appearance,  inside  and  out.  We  noticed  several 
other  public  buildings,  the  character  of  which  we  did  not 
learn. 

Just  at  nightfall,  we  took  a  turn  through  the  Castle,  the 
winter  residence  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  a  sort  of  military 
palace,  on  a  grand  scale.  It  is  situated  in  the  midst  of  the 
city,  on  high  ground,  and  presents  a  gruff  and  formidable 
appearance.  This  blending  of  civil  and  military  power  I 
never  much  admired,  but,  as  a  student  of  things,  must  sub- 
mit to  much  that  I  can  not  approve ;  and  I  plucked  up 
courage  to  take  a  look  through  the  accessible  parts  of  this 
vice-regal  establishment.  We  entered  by  the  east  gate — 
which  is  guarded  by  a  statue  of  Justice,  and  two  living 
sentinels  in  the  employ  of  /w-justice — into  a  quadrangular 
court,  near  three  hundred  feet  long,  and  one  hundred  and 
fifty  wide.  This  area  is  fronted  by  corresponding  build- 
ings, which  present  three  rears,  of  course,  to  the  streets. 
These  fronts  exhibit  a  rich  display  of  architectural  taste, 
and  the  interiors  are  said  to  excel  in  elegance.  On  one 
side  are  the  apartments  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  the  rest 


376 


A  YOUNG  SOLDIER. 


are  occupied  by  the  officers  and  servants  of  the  household. 
The  front  of  the  chapel  of  the  castle  is  ornamented  with 
heads  of  all  the  sovereigns  of  England. 

While  gazing  about,  a  young  soldier  came  up  to  us,  and 
commenced  a  conversation.  Finding  we  were  from  Ame- 
rica, he  expressed  himself  very  freely.  He  had  not  been 
long  in  the  service,  and  was  not  well  pleased  with  it,  but 
necessity  had  compelled  him  to  adopt  this  course  to  obtain 
a  living.  He  asked  us  what  we  had  heard  of  Mitchell's 
trial,  and  what  was  the  prospect  of  acquittal.  We  told 
him  we  had  heard  nothing  in  particular,  only  there  was 
much  excitement  in  the  streets.  He  said  he  hoped  he 
would  get  clear,  for  he  believed  him  an  honest  man,  and 
a  true  lover  of  his  country.  We  proceeded  gradually,  and 
finally  asked  him  what  he  should  do  if  there  should  be  a 
rising  of  the  people.  He  said,  after  some  hesitation,  he  sup- 
posed he  must  fight.  I  did  not  press  the  inquiry  further, 
for  I  saw,  by  his  appearance,  what  his  answers  would  be  ; 
that  his  heart  was  for  his  country,  which  he  loved,  and, 
though  compelled  to  it,  he  would  reluctantly  contend  with 
his  countrymen,  and,  therefore,  the  expression  of  an  ear- 
nest hope  that  there  would  be  no  serious  disturbance.  He 
said  the  whole  garrison  was  kept  constantly  in  readiness 
for  any  emergency  ;  that  every  part  of  the  castle  was 
crowded  with  soldiers,  and  hundreds  were  quartered  in 
private  dwellings.  Observing  some  one  who  appeared  to 
be  listening  to  our  conversation,  he  bowed  and  left  us. 

We  departed  by  the  gate  opposite  to  the  one  we  entered, 
and  passed  along  under  the  high  wall  of  the  south  front, 
where  we  met  several  soldiers,  and  saw  a  curious 
kind  of  movable  breastwork,  designed  to  barricade  the 
streets.  The  houses  in  this  neighborhood  are  filled  with 
soldiers,  up  to  the  windows  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  stories  ; 
and  many,  not  very  respectable  looking  women  are  loiter- 
ing about  them.  Oh,  the  wickedness  of  armies !  how  man- 
ifold  are  their  curses!  how  blighting  their  influence  upon 
virtuous  principle,  and  social  happiness  !    We  were  glad  to 


CHURCH   OF  ST.  AUDOEN. 


377 


escape  from  the  atmosphere  of  pollution,  ashamed  of  our- 
selves for  having  seen  the  proof  of  such  terrible  degrada- 
tion. 

Just  at  dark,  we  wandered  into  the  large,  unfinished 
church  of  Saint  Audoen — a  &aint  of  whom  I  had  never  heard 
before ;  but;  as  every  church  must  be  called  after  a  patron 
saint,  whether  Catholic  or  Episcopal,  the  old  calendar  has 
been  exhausted.  Some,  for  fear  they  shall  not  get  the  right 
saint  to  preside  over  them,  call  their  churches  "  All 
Saints."  The  church  was  crowded  full,  to  hear  a  dis- 
course from  an  Italian  priest,  who  spoke  the  English  indif- 
ferently. The  staging  was  still  standing.  The  room  was 
very  dimly  lighted.  Men  and  women  were  huddled  to- 
gether, some  standing;  some  kneeling ;  some  praying;  some 
talking ;  some  laughing ;  some  coming  in  ;  some  going 
out — all  in  most  glorious  confusion.  There  was  nothing 
of  the  order,  attention,  and  propriety  we  are  accustomed 
to  see  in  places  of  worship.  The  great  proportion  were, 
in  appearance,  people  just  come  from  their  work,  without 
washing  their  faces,  or  changing  their  apparel.  The  wo- 
men, generally,  were  without  hats,  with  wThite,  ruffled,  cam- 
bric caps  on  their  heads.  Men  had  on  clogs,  or  heavy 
shoes,  and  corduroy  breeches.  Nearer  the  altar,  there  was  a 
class  of  people  better  dressed,  and  giving  better  attention 
to  the  services. 

On  leaving  the  church  we  received  a  copious  shower  of 
the  holy  water  which  wTas  spattered  promiscuously  over  the 
multitude,  enough,  my  friend  thought,  to  last  us  some  time. 
In  addition  to  the  regularly  appointed  beggars  who  were 
busy  with  their  boxes  collecting  pennies,  and  scolding  and 
fretting  about  the  meanness  of  the  collection,  there  was  a 
host  of  volunteers  in  the  shape  of  decrepid  men,  haggard 
old  women,  and  ragged  children,  who  followed  us  into  the 
street  with  their  blessings  and  their  prayers,  holding  out 
their  hands  for  us  to  give. 

All  about  the  street  were  gathered  crowds  of  men  and 
women,  many  of  whom  we  overheard  discussing  the  sub- 

32* 


378 


POPULAR  AGITATION. 


ject  of  Mitchel's  trial.  In  one  company  we  heard  a  man 
and  a  woman  sing  a  very  pathetic  song;  in  an  other,  one  was 
singing  a  comic  song,  in  which  the  boys  and  girls  seemed  to 
take  great  delight  All  these  were  closely  watched  by  the 
policemen,  who  were  listening  to  all  the  discussions  where 
half  a  dozen  were  together.  Every  now  and  then  a 
mounted  policeman  went  dashing  through  the  crowd,  and 
here  and  there  were  seen  platoons  of  soldiers  patrolling  the 
streets,  apparently  to  overawe  the  people.  Wherever  a 
large  crowd  was  gathered,  or  any  thing  like  excited  conver- 
sation, two  or  three  policemen  would  come  up  and  order 
them  to  disperse,  which  was  generally  obeyed,  but  not  al- 
ways with  the  best  grace  imaginable.  Some  would  grate 
their  teeth  and  mutter  vengeance  ;  others  would  turn  upon 
them  a  repartee,  and  excite  a  laugh  against  them  ;  but.  every 
where  it  was  manifest  that  the  bitterest  hatred  was  stifled 
only  by  the  dread  of  power.  In  short,  the  city  presents  the 
appearance  of  one  just  conquered  and  placed  under  military 
governors.  The  spirit  of  dissatisfaction  will,  every  where, 
find  means  of  expression,  and  many  were  the  taunts  and 
jeers  cast  upon  the  minions  of  power.  It  was  a  rich  field 
for  the  display  of  Irish  wit,  and  I  laughed  outright  more 
than  once  at  the  quaint  and  pointed  expressions  of  defiance 
and  derision  heaped  upon  the  straight-coated  policemen, 
by  the  burly  fellows  who  managed  to  keep  out  of  their 
clutches. 

But  notwithstanding  this  occasional  exhibition  of  a  light 
and  careless  feeling,  there  was  a  deep  and  solemn  anxiety 
every  where  to  be  seen  depicted  on  every  countenance. 
Every  body  seemed  to  be  in  trouble ;  not  less  the  friends 
than  the  foes  of  the  government.  The  former  felt  that  it 
was  a  critical  moment,  when  the  least  movement  might 
prove  fatal  to  the  peace  of  the  city  and  the  lives  of  thou- 
sands. The  latter  hoped  against  hope,  that  the  trial  of  the 
distinguished  advocate  of  their  cause  would  terminate 
favorably,  and  they  be  permitted  to  hail  his  deliverance 
from  thraldom,  by  a  grand  display  of  triumph  over  their 


A   RESTLESS  NIGHT. 


379 


adversaries.  Few  of  them  meditated  a  formal  rebellion 
against  the  government,  in  their  unprepared  state,  for  all 
know  that  such  an  attempt  would  be  futile.  But  they  re- 
member the  words  of  their  former  leader,  who  said  "  Agi- 
tate, Agitate/'  and  they  hope,  by  agitations,  to  force  Eng- 
land to  remove  some  of  the  disabilities  which  have  im- 
poverished their  country  and,  they  think,  brought  all  their 
miseries  upon  them. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  Restless  Night. — Domestic  Affairs. — Trial  of  John  Mitchel. — Gain  Ad- 
mission.— The  Court-room. — The  Court. — The  Bar. — The  Jury. — The 
Prisoner. — The  Audience. — Mr.  Holmes. — His  Defence. — The  Effect. — 
The  Crowd. — The  Excitement. — The  Military. — Rashness  of  the  Reform- 
ers.— Ireland  Unfitted  for  a  Republic. — Paying  the  Catholic  Clergy.-: — Irish 
Character. — A  forcible  Repeal  impossible. — Origin  and  Exercise  of  Power. 

At  a  late  hour  last  night,  we  retired  to  our  room,  great- 
ly "  exercised"  in  body  and  mind.  The  sights  we  had  seen 
affected  one,  and  the  bacon  and  green  cabbage  we  had  eaten, 
the  other — the  latter,  though  a  rarity  much  praised  here, 
was  a  little  too  much  for  my  Jewish  stomach.  A  little  too 
much  of  the  canine  and  graminiverous  for  a  dyspeptic ! 
All  night  I  suffered  indescribable  tortures.  When  I  slept,  I 
dreamed  of  rebellions,  dungeon -walls,  and  indiscriminate 
slaughter ;  of  trials  for  heresies,  with  racks,  gibbets,  and  all 
imaginable  tortures;  the  heaving  and  rolling  of  the  sea,  fol- 
lowed by  the  most  intolerable  sickness.  Then  up  I  would 
start,  sick  in  reality,  for  my  stomach  was  in  open  rebellion 
against  the  oppressions  imposed  upon  it,  and  a  terrible  com- 
motion and  o^break  followed,  which  no  force,  physical  or 
moral,  could  quiet,  without  the  removal  of  the  evils  com- 
plained of.  This  morning,  I  feel  a  consequent  debility  ;  but 
a  little  fasting  for  the  body,  while  there  is  so  much  to 
excite  the  mind,  will,  I  trust,  restore  my  wonted  health,  and 


380 


DOMESTIC  ARRANGEMENTS. 


all  go  on  in  harmony.  We  have  a  long  day  before  us  ;  so, 
while  my  friend  has  been  taking  his  walk  and  breakfast,  I 
have  sketched  up  my  notes,  and  have  time  to  remark  a 
word  upon  the  domestic  arrangement  of  the  respectable 
boarding-house  in  which  we  are  stopping. 

The  houses  in  this  city  look  old  and  dingy,  dark  and  lone- 
some. They  are  generally  built  of  bricks,  much  larger  than 
ours,  and  of  a  yellowish  brown  color,  resembling  our  fire 
bricks,  or  those  of  which  houses  are  constructed  in  Mil- 
waukie.  They  are  large  and  high,  sometimes  five  and  six 
stories.  The  windows  have  no  blinds,  and  hence  look  naked. 
A  portion  of  the  houses  are  of  stone,  but  those  look  less 
cheerful  than  the  others.  The  inside  is  finished  in  a  plain 
old  fashioned  style,  with  little  respect  to  taste  or  convenience. 
The  floors  are  not  generally  carpeted,  and  from  age  look 
old  and  dirty ;  the  fault  is  in  the  boards,  which  turn  to  a 
dark,  dingy  color,  which  can  not  be  prevented.  The  rooms 
are  papered.  The  paper  is  hung  against  the  sides,  being 
pasted  upon  coarse  canvas,  fastened  at  the  top  and  bottom, 
— thus  came  the  name  paper-hangiiigs.  The  more  modern, 
as  with  us,  have  the  paper  pasted  to  the  wall.  The  ceiling 
is  smoky  and  rough.  The  furniture  corresponds  with  the 
style  of  the  houses,  generally  old,  heavy,  and  substantial. 
The  beds  are  furnished  with  linen,  clean,  but  not  so  white 
as  we  see  at  home.  Straw  palliasters,  with  heavy  feather 
beds,  which  never  saw  a  Yankee  renovator.  Most  of  them 
are  furnished  with  high  posts,  and  enclosed  with  well-worn 
chintz  of  the  olden  style.  Every  thing  bears  the  marks  of 
age  and  wear,  and  not  that  thorough  respect  to  neatness 
with  which  we  are  familiar  in  hotels  and  boarding  houses. 
]  speak  now  not  only  of  this  house,  which  is  above  the  mid- 
dling class,  situated  in  a  good  street  and  well  accredited  for 
the  manner  in  which  it  is  kept,  but  also  of  those  which  we 
have  seen  in  other  places. 

Some  idea  can  be  formed  of  an  Irish  breakfast,  from  the 
following  description  given  by  my  friend,  who  has  just  come 
up  from  the  table.  <;  There  were  some  half  dozen  large  lo.-ives 


MITCH  EL'S  TRIAL. 


381 


of  bread,  and  as  many  small  ones,  placed  on  the  table,  with- 
out plates  under  them  ;  some  half-dozen  plates,  each  contain- 
ing four  or  five  pieces  of  butter  as  large  as  a  dollar  ;  each 
person  cut  a  slice  from  the  loaf,  and  helped  himself  to  but- 
ter with  his  own  knife,  and  was  permitted  to  choose  either  a 
little  piece  of  cold  meat  or  two  boiled  eggs,  with  two  cups 
of  black  tea,  and  a  small  allowance  of  milk,  and  sugar  to  the 
liking."  Of  the  veracity  of  this  description  I  have  no 
doubt,  for  it  comports  with  every  breakfast  we  have  had, 
except  we  have  not  often  seen  meat.  It  is  not  common  to 
spread  a  cloth  upon  the  table. 

We  took  a  stroll  through  the  old  part  of  the  city,  amid 
scenes  of  filth  and  misery  equal  to  any  thing  we  have  seen 
— through  the  grounds  of  one  of  the  many  large  hospitals, 
to  the  station,  to  meet  our  friend  who  left  us  at  Mount 
Shannon  ;  thence,  through  the  north  portion  of  the  city,  to 
the  railway  station,  in  that  section,  the  basin  of  the  Royal 
canal,  Queen's  Inns,  and  several  other  places.  This  por- 
tion of  the  city  is  more  modern  and  handsome  than  that 
on  the  south  of  the  Liffey.  Several  streets  are  wide 
and  neat,  and  the  houses  large  and  elegant.  We  noticed, 
particularly,  the  churches,  as  being  specimens  of  tasteful 
elegance.  In  fact,  few  cities  can  excel  Dublin,  in  the 
beauty  of  its  location,  or  the  number  and  splendor  of  its 
public  buildings. 

The  object  of  to-day  was,  to  attend  the  trial  of  Mr. 
Mitchel,  arraigned  for  sedition.  With  much  difficulty,  we 
pressed  through  the  crowd,  to  the  court-house  in  Green- 
street.  Directly  in  front,  an  area  of  several  rods  was  kept 
clear  by  chains,  and  rows  of  policemen,  stretched  across 
the  street,  who  brandished  their  batons  over  the  heads  of 
the  crowd  in  a  very  careless  manner.  Fifteen  or  twenty 
mounted  policemen,  with  swords  by  their  sides,  occupied 
the  open  space.  Once  or  twice  we  were  ordered  to  leave, 
as  we  stood  looking  on.  Seeing  some  others  cross  to  the 
court-house,  we  followed,  no  one  opposing  us.  Those  who 
would  succeed,  must  always  persevere.    Several  police- 


382 


THE  COURT-ROOM. 


men  were  guarding  the  door.  We  asked  admission,  but 
were  refused.  We  whispered  in  the  ear  of  one  that  we 
were  Americans,  hoping  to  make  up  in  national,  what  we 
lacked  in  personal  ability.  We  were  referred  to  the  she- 
riff, to  whom  we  sent  a  note,  saying  that  three  American 
travelers,  happening  in  the  city,  desired  to  attend  the 
trial  then  going  on.  In  a  few  moments  a  permit  was  re- 
turned, by  which  we  gained  admission  to  the  court-room, 
being  handed  from  one  officer  to  another,  till  we  were  seat- 
ed in  the  gallery. 

The  court-room  was  crowded,  in  every  part,  with  men 
and  women,  army  and  naval  officers,  with  a  large  sprink- 
ling of  bailiffs  and  policemen  placed  among  the  audience, 
so  as  to  overhear  the  least  expression  of  sympathy  for  the 
prisoner,  and  suppress  the  first  movement  in  his  favor. 
The  passage-ways  and  doors  were  fortified  with  a  strong 
guard,  and  the  whole  scene  presented  the  appearance  of  a 
court-martial. 

In  the  bench,  elevated  a  few  steps  above  the  lower  floor, 
were  seated  two  men,  dressed  in  what  seemed  to  me  a  ra- 
ther fantastic  style.  The  one  on  the  right  was  Baron  Le- 
froy,  the  chief  judge.  He  wore  a  gray  wig,  and  a  red  cas- 
sock, trimmed  with  ermine,  looking  some  like  an  old  monk; 
except  his  features  were  less  complacent,  bearing  the  marks 
of  a  stern  and  revengeful  temper,  and  a  cold,  unfeeling 
heart,  every  way  indicative  of  the  qualities  necessary  to 
execute  the  law  of  tyrants  for  political  offences.  The 
other  was  Judge  Moore,  whose  smooiher  countenance  im- 
pressed me  more  favorably,  as  if  some  drops  of  the  milk 
of  human  kindness  still  flowed  in  his  veins.  Immediately 
before  the  bench,  were  arrayed  the  counsellors  of  the 
crown,  and  those  for  the  prisoner.  They  were  dressed  in 
long,  black,  flowing  cassocks,  with  white  bands  at  the  neck, 
like  certain  priests,  with  long,  curly  wigs,  thoroughly  pow- 
dered. I  noticed  some  young  barristers  in  the  crowd  of 
lawvers  about  the  bar,  all  dressed  in  the  same  wav,  whose 
appearance  was  laughably  ridiculous.    They  forcibly  re- 


MIL   JOHN    MITCH  EL. 


383 


minded  me,  as  they  moved  about,  of  young  peacocks, 
learning  to  spread  their  tail-feathers  for  the  admiration  of 
themselves — perhaps  of  others.  Our  republican  eyes  are 
unused  to  such  designations  of  place  and  rank.  A  portion 
of  the  pulpit  retains  the  aristocratic  practice,  but  the  bar 
does  not.  In  some  of  our  upper  courts,  there  is  left  a  little 
mock  imitation,  by  the  judges  wearing  the  black  cassock, 
but  omitting  the  ermine  and  the  wig.  Except  in  the  mar- 
tial, penitentiary,  and  murders  on  the  scaffold,  little  respect 
is  paid  to  the  outward  emblems  of  authority  or  rank. 

The  jury  of  twelve  men,  respectable  in  appearance,  were 
sitting  in  the  box.  Opposite  to  them  were  several  ladies, 
whose  appearance  indicated  that  they  were  "  of  rank/' 
who  seemed  to  take  a  very  lively  interest  in  the  proceed- 
ings. In  the  dock,  was  the  principal  object  of  attention — 
Mr.  John  Mitchel.  He  was  sitting  calmly,  with  his  arms 
folded  on  his  breast,  as  if  trying  to  look  cheerful  and  indif- 
ferent. My  first  glance  at  him  showed  that  this  was  un- 
real ;  that,  deeper  in  his  soul,  there  was  a  bitter  agony, 
which  could  not  be  suppressed — a  feeling  which  involunta- 
rily rebelled  against  the  mockery  of  law,  when  the  sacred 
precincts  of  justice  and  liberty  are  invaded  He  is  a  man 
under  middle  age,  perhaps  thirty-five,  of  medium  stature, 
spare  in  flesh,  of  a  nervous  temperament,  with  an  intel- 
lectual forehead,  and  a  general  phrenological  development 
indicative  of  an  excellent  moral  character — not  common 
with  "felons."  His  countenance  was  rather  pale,  and,  I 
should  judge,  his  health  not  generally  good.  Near  him — 
outside  the  dock,  a  lady  was  pointed  out  as  his  wife,  whose 
genteel  and  modest  appearance,  and  deep  interest  in  what 
was  said  and  done,  showed  her  to  be  possessed  of  the  deep- 
est sensibilities,  and  keenly  alive  to  the  fate  of  her  husband. 
Mr.  Meagher  was  also  present,  and  constant  in  his  atten- 
tions to  Mr.  Mitchel. 

In  the  grand-jury  box,  was  a  retinue  of  reporters  for  the 
press,  and  others,  who  seemed  to  take  a  deep  interest  in  the 
progress  of  the  trial.    It  was  easy  to  see  that  a  deep  anxi- 


381 


NO  ritOSPECT   OF  ACQ.U1TTAL. 


ety  pervaded  the  whole  assembly  ;  for,  though  every  thing 
was  kept  quiet,  the  least  remark  of  favor  or  disfavor  in  the 
progress  of  the  trial,  operated,  like  an  electric  shock,  on  all 
at  once. 

The  preliminary  steps  had  been  taken  yesterday,  nearly 
the  whole  day  having  been  consumed  in  empanneling  a  jury 
on  which  the  government  could  rely  for  a  conviction.  A 
good  deal  of  chicanery,  it  was  alleged,  had  been  used  in 
packing  a  jury  to  carry  out  the  will  of  government.  Every 
Catholic  and  friend  of  repeal  had  been  studiously  rejected 
from  the  pannel,  and  those  only  admitted  who  were  known 
to  be  opposed  to  the  prisoner.  All  was  now  ready  for  the 
form  of  a  trial,  the  result  of  which  was  clearly  foreseen 
by  all  who  understood  the  manoeuvrings  of  the  govern- 
ment officers.  The  friends  of  Mr.  Mitchel,  as  well  as  his 
enemies,  had  made  up  their  minds  to  his  conviction ;  but 
they  still  awaited,  anxiously,  the  denouement  of  the  iniqui- 
tous drama,  to  see  how  far  cool  injustice  would  go  to  sus- 
tain political  tyranny  and  oppression,  under  the  form  of 
law,  and  in  the  name  of  order.  All  wrere  anxious  to  hear  the 
defence  of  Mr.  Holmes,  the  leading  counsel  for  the  prisoner, 
who  is  called  the  "  father  of  the  Irish  bar,"  and  admitted,  on 
all  hands,  to  be  the  most  learned  and  eloquent  barrister  in 
the  realm,  as  well  as  a  true  and  fearless  patriot.  All  eyes 
were  directed  to  him,  and  every  body  wished  for  the  mo- 
ment to  arrive  when  he  should  speak.  The  previous  pro- 
ceedings seemed  a  needless  and  tedious  delay.  Law  and 
evidence  were  of  little  concern,  so  long  as  justice  and  equi- 
ty were  outraged  by  the  judiciary,  backed  by  military 
power.  All  had  seen  the  assembling  of  immense  hordes 
of  troops,  kept  constantly  under  arms — fourteen  thousand 
being  at  this  moment  stationed  in  different  parts  of  the 
city,  ready  to  be  concentrated  in  twenty  minutes,  at  a  given 
signal,  to  crush  any  demonstration  that  should  be  made  in 
favor  of  the  prisoner.  What  chance  was  there  for  his 
acquittal  ?  The  careful  observer  could  see  none.  His 
conviction   was    pre  determined,  and    all   the  tfecessaj 3 


THE   INDICTMENT   AND  EVIDENCE. 


385 


measures  preconcerted  for  that  purpose.  But  still  all  felt 
interested  to  hear  what  the  ablest  advocate  and  purest  pa- 
triot in  Ireland  would  dare  to  say  on  such  an  occasion. 

The  court  was  open  when  we  entered,  and  t  he  Queen's 
attorney  was  proceeding  with  a  statement  and  explanation 
of  the  law  relating  to  sedition ;  which  was  all  very  plain 
and  direct,  having  been  concocted  and  passed  a  few  months 
ago  to  meet  the  case  of  Irish  rebels  who  could  not  be  con- 
victed by  any  previous  statute.  The  substance  of  the  ac- 
cusation was,  that  the  prisoner  had  been  guilty  of  "  felo- 
niously compassing  to  deprive  the  Queen  of  her  style  and 
royal  name,  and  of  the  imperial  crown  ;"  that,  in  a  speech 
in  Limerick,  he  had  uttered  seditious  language,  which  was 
afterwards  published  in  a  paper  called  the  "United  Irish- 
man;" that  he  had,  on  other  occasions,  written  and  published 
in  the  same  paper,  similar  language,  especially  in  a  "  Letter 
to  Irish  Protestant  Farmers.''  He  next  introduced  testimonv 
to  sustain  the  indictment.  Half-a-dozen  policemen  and 
one  or  two  others  swore  to  all  that  was  wanted  to  fasten 
the  charge  upon  him.  After  a  few  brief  comments  upon 
the  evidence,  in  relation  to  the  law,  were  addressed  to  the 
jury  in  a  very  mild  and  indifferent  manner,  as  if  he  felt 
sure  of  his  case,  and  would  therefore  spend  no  unnecessary 
breath,  but  could  afford  to  appear  generous  and  merciful  to 
the  accused ;  he  closed,  with  some  general  remarks  in- 
tended to  correct  a  report,  already  circulated,  that  unfair 
and  illegal  steps  had  been  taken  to  procure  a  jury  that  would 
certainly  bring  in  a  verdict  of  guilty.  No  particular  in- 
terest was  manifested  during  the  progress  of  his  speech,  nor 
at  the  close.  He  handed  in  his  papers  and  rested  the  case 
on  the  part  of  the  crown. 

A  little  movement  was  noticed  among  the  lawyers,  and 
all  attention  was  directed  towards  an  old  gentleman  who 
rose  up  slowly  as  if  oppressed  with  the  weight  of  years,  as 
well  as  a  fearful  responsibility  for  the  fate  of  a  fellow  being. 
A  slight  murmur  of  applause  ran  through  the  assembly, 
which  was  immediately  suppressed — before  half-uttered — 


38(> 


STRIKING   THE  JURY. 


by  the  sheriff  and  other  officers  who  started  to  their  feet. 
A  profound  silence  ensued.  I  had  no  time  to  scan  the  per- 
son of  Mr.  Holmes,  further  than  to  observe  an  old  man — I 
should  think  of  eighty  years — somewhat  bent  by  age,  but 
still  vigorous  and  bold,  and  too  careless  of  life  to  be  cowered 
by  authority  to  wear  the  manacles  of  despotism.  With 
the  manner  in  which  his  first  sentence  was  uttered,  I  be- 
came so  impressed,  that  I  scarcely  thought  of  the  man  af- 
terwards. He  stood  before  me  as  an  image  half-seen  when 
the  whole  attention  is  so  intensely  absorbed  in  the  contem- 
plation of  an  object  beyond  it,  as  that  only  the  occasional 
movement  of  the  intermediate  attracts  the  least  notice.  I 
hardly  heard  the  minor  points  of  his  speech.  I  took 
notes,  but  the  spirit  and  truth  of  that  speech  touched  a 
chord  in  my  heart  which  thrilled  my  whole  being,  and  when 
it  was  ended,  I  felt  as  if  I  had  been  in  a  trance.  It  was 
more  than  a  dream ;  for  the  eternal  landmarks  of  liberty  and 
despotism,  of  justice  and  oppression,  of  the  rights  of  the 
many,  and  the  claims  of  the  few,  were  so  distinctly  defined 
that  the  impression  is  vividly  retained.  It  was  not  the 
novelty  of  the  truths  asserted — for  every  American  school- 
boy is  familiar  with  them ;  but  the  noble,  fearless,  and  elo- 
quent manner  in  which  they  were  advanced,  that  pleased 
and  overwhelmed  me. 

He  commenced  by  an  allusion  to  the  important  duty  de- 
volving on  him  as  counsel  for  the  defendant,  and  his  sense 
of  inadequacy  to  discharge  it.  He  declared  the  pleasure  he 
felt  in  being  selected  to  defend  a  man  whom  he  believed  to 
be  honest,  if  not  innocent,  and  whom  the  government  might 
fear  or  hate  but  could  not  despise.  He  submitted  to  the 
statements  of  the  attorney  general,  and  the  proofs  adduced 
without  a  comment,  but  expressed  his  regrets  at  his  con- 
cluding remarks,  in  which  he  spoke  of  certain  instructions 
respecting  the  striking  of  juries.  This  brought  the  State's 
attorney  to  his  feet,  who  asserted  that  he  only  spoke  of  in- 
structions which  he  gave  to  the  solicitor  for  the  crown,  and 
which  came  not  from  the  Lord  Lieutenant.  Baron  Lefroy 


THE   DEFENCE   FOUNDED   ON  JUSTIFICATION. 


387 


interposed  some  remarks  with  a  rather  patronizing  air,  and 
Mr.  Holmes  proceeded  immediately  to  a  point,  asserting 
that  there  were  some  things  which  could  not  be  mistaken. 
"  The  crown  had  called  a  jury  which  two  honorable  men,  on 
their  oaths,  had  declared  to  be  impartial  and  fair  between 
the  government  and  his  client,  and^yet  the  officers  of  the 
crown  had  struck  from  that  ;  fair  and  impartial  jury'  thirty- 
six  men !  (A  burst  of  feeling  was  here  suppressed  by  the 
sheriff,  who  cried  out  'Silence.')  We  challenged  the  panel, 
they  succeeded  on  the  oath  of  two  men,  who  declared  it  to 
be  a  fair  and  impartial  jury,  and  yet  strike  off  thirty -six 
men,  eighteen  of  whom  are  Roman  Catholics  !"  At  this  re- 
petition, in  which  he  brought  his  fist  upon  the  bar,  a  spon- 
taneous burst  of  applause  broke  from  every  part  of  the 
house.  Baron  Lefroy,  the  sheriff,  and  under  officers  shouted 

silence,  and  in  a  few  moments,  all  was  calm  as  the  house  of 
death. 

Mr.  Holmes  proceeded  to  his  defence,  and  such  an  other 
masterly  performance  has  rarely  been  produced,  since  his 
brother-in-law,  the  celebrated  Robert  Emmet,  was  tried  and 
condemned  for  a  similar  offence,  in  that  same  room,  into 
which,  I  am  told,  Mr.  Holmes  has  refused  to  enter,  till  the 
present  trials  commenced.  He  commented  somewhat  at 
length  on  the  terms  of  the  Union,  and  showed  the  ridicu- 
lousness of  the  law  which  made  it  felony  to  "compass,  imagine, 
invent,  desire,  or  intend  to  deprive  or  depose  the  most  gra- 
cious sovereign,  the  Queen,  from  the  style,  honor,  and  royal 
name  of  the  imperial  crown  of  the  United  Kingdom,  by 
printing  certain  articles  in  a  newspaper,  which  alone  were 
relied  on  as  evidence  in  the  case."  When  he  came  more 
directly  to  the  opinions  of  Mr.  Mitchel,  he  said,  "Many  of 
them  I  myself  adopt."  An  other  burst  of  applause  followed. 
The  brow  of  the  old  Baron  knit  in  anger.  Lord  Moore 
looked  anxious,  and  all  the  Bar  stared  as  in  doubt  of  his 
sincerity.  He  proceeded  to  state  the  condition  of  Ireland 
as  a  justification  of  Mr.  Mitchel,  and  to  prove  his  position 
that  the  "  course  of  England  had  been  the  cause  of  all 


388        ENGLAND   THE   CAUSE   OF   IRISH  DISTURBANCE. 


the  disturbance  which  existed."  He  said,  "Ireland  is  an 
enslaved  country,  and  I  will  prove  it.  A  great  mistake  is 
entertained,  in  my  opinion,  by  some  people,  who  think  no 
man  is  a  slave  unless  he  is  in  chains,  or  subject  to  the  lash 
of  a  tyrant.  The  real  slavery  of  a  people  consists  in  this, 
that  they  do  not  make  their  own  laws,  but  that  another  na- 
tion, or  individuals,  make  them  for  them.  I  assert,  boldly 
and  broadly" — 

With  an  angry  frown,  and  quivering  voice,  Baron  Le- 
froy  interrupted  him,  by  saying  the  Court  could  not  per- 
mit him  to  use  such  objectionable  language. 

Mr.  Holmes  stood  calm,  and  heard  the  judge  ;  then  bow- 
ing politely,  in  the  true  dignity  of  an  old  man,  conscious 
of  his  right,  he  proceeded,  by  saying  he  "did  not  wish  to 
do  what  was  not  right,  but  he  could  not  do  justice  to  his 
client,  without  doing  justice  to  Ireland."  A  tremendous 
burst  of  applause  followed  this  remark,  which  the  officers 
could  not  prevent.  I  expected  an  outbreak  at  once,  but 
soon  all  was  calm,  when  the  Baron  remarked  that  the  officers 
had  got  authority  to  arrest  any  person  who  should  be  guilty 
of  improper  expressions  of  approbation,  and  a  repetition 
of  the  offence  should  be  punished  at  once  by  imprison- 
ment. 

Mr.  Holmes  deprecated  the  applause,  and  proceeded  with 
his  argument,  uninterrupted,  till  he  again  came  to  the  rela- 
tions of  Ireland  to  England,  when  he  said,  "I  openly  and 
boldly  assert,  as  a  lawyer  and  as  a  man,  that  the  act  of 
Union  is  only  binding  on  the  people  of  Ireland,  as  a  matter 
of  expediency,"  when  expressions  of  approbation  came 
from  all  parts  of  the  room.  He  proceeded  with  a  power- 
ful comment  upon  expediency.  "  It  is  often  expedient  to 
submit,  and  every  man  ought  to  submit,  except  on  strong 
grounds ;  but,  when  these  strong  grounds  are  afforded — 
when  the  question  is  of  right,  I  assert  that  an  enslaved 
people  has  the  right,  if  driven  to  such  a  course,  by  neces- 
sity, to  seek,  by  recourse  to  arms,  to  obtain  their  liberties, 
even  at  the  hazard  of  life.    I  say  life — What  is  life? 


THE  RIGHT   OF  REVOLUTION. 


389 


What  is  life  worth  to  a  man,  without  liberty — of  what 
value  is  the  privilege  to  live  enslaved  and  degraded  ?  What 
man  would"  

The  old  Baron  waxed  warm,  and,  in  most  arrogant  and 
insulting  words,  called  Mr.  H.  to  order,  stating  that  the 
court  would  not  sit  here  and  hear  such  sentiments  uttered. 

Mr.  Holmes  proceeded  as  calmly  as  if  nothing  had  trans- 
pired, to  say  that  "the  prisoner  alone  had  not  that  right ; 
no  individual  of  himself  has  that  right — but  the  people  col- 
lectively have  that  right,  or  such  majority  of  the  people  as 
could  leave  no  doubt  of  its  title." 

Baron  Lefroy  was  more  violent  than  ever.  His  manner 
was  insulting  to  the  last  degree.  Courts,  thought  I,  and 
even  governments,  are  often  amazingly  sensitive  on  this  ques- 
tion of  abstract  rights.  Here  is  a  fair  sample  of  it.  The 
Judiciary  is  eminently  conservative,  and  one  of  the  most 
difficult  branches  to  model  into  accordance  with  the  prin- 
ciples of  true  liberty.  We  once  had,  in  our  country, 
judges  deeply  imbued  with  the  principles  of  the  "  perfect 
law  of  liberty;"  but,  as  the  spirit  of  '76  becomes  filtered 
through  the  veins  of  a  growing  aristocracy,  the  doctrine  of 
hereditary  rights  and  old  forms  of  government,  and  consti- 
tutions outlived,  is  admitted  in  the  decisions  of  rights 
to  reform.  The  principle  of  our  sacred  "  Declaration  of 
Independence"  has  never  been  maintained  in  reference  to 
the  right  of  majorities  to  "  alter,  amend,  or  abolish  their 
forms  of  government !"  » 

Baron  Lefroy  seemed  to  be  impressed  with  a  full  sense 
of  the  dangerous  ground  on  which  Mr.  Holmes  was  tread- 
ing, and  he  roused  all  his  energies  to  put  a  stop  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  a  question  which  promised  so  much  harm  to  his 
government.  But  Mr.  H.  felt  that  he  stood  on  equal 
terms,  back  of  all  law  but  that  of  God,  and  above  all  au- 
thority but  that  of  heaven,  and  he  warmed  up,  as  if  in- 
spired. He  raised  himself  more  erect,  glanced  a  piercing 
look  of  defiance  at  the  old  Baron,  and  proceeded,  undis- 
turbed.   A  bolder  and  more  eloquent  speech  rarely  fell 


300 


AN   ELOQUENT  APPEAL. 


from  the  lips  of  mortal  man.  It  reminded  me,  and  I  speak 
it  reverently,  of  the  defence  of  Saint  Paul  before  Agrip- 
pa;  except,  in  that  case,  the  heathen  monarch  paid  more 
deference  to  the  rights  and  argument  of  the  prisoner  than 
was  manifested  on  this  occasion. 

The  concluding  sentences  thrilled  every  heart.  Scarcely 
an  eye  was  dry  in  that  vast  assembly.  The  counsel  for  the 
Queen  were  deeply  moved,  and  even  the  rough  features  of 
the  old  Baron  showed  that  all  his  feelings  of  humanity  were 
not  blunted,  but  that  some  sense  of  justice  and  kindness 
still  lurked  in  the  secret  chambers  of  his  soul,  which  his 
conflicts  with  the  sterner  forms  of  wrong  and  crime  had 
not  entirely  obliterated.  The  "  old  man  eloquent,"  to 
whom  that  epithet  emphatically  applies,  roused  the  embers 
of  his  mighty  genius,  and  all  the  glory  of  his  past  life  seemed 
to  center  and  radiate  from  that  point,  and,  as  he  rose  higher 
and  higher  in  the  pathos  of  his  argument,  the  whole 
audience  clung  closer  and  rose  with  him.  The  flashes  which 
darted  from  his  lips  were  like  the  clear  blaze  of  the  rapid 
lightning  when  it  plays  about  the  heavens  uncontroled,  leap- 
ing from  cloud  to  cloud,  and  filling  the  soul  with  awe  and 
admiration  the  most  profound.  There  is  a  divinity  in  words, 
when  fitly  spoken,  wrhich  is  irresistible  I  never  felt  the 
power  of  eloquence  as  I  felt  it  then. 

"  The  actions  of  men  are  not  to  be  judged  of  by  events  ;  by  success,  or  by 
defeat.  Had  the  liberties  of  Greece  perished  with  Leonidas  at  Thermopylae, 
Spartan  glory  would  have  been  the  same.  Had  the  days  of  Marathon,  Sala- 
mis,  and  Plataea,  been  days  of  defeat,  instead  of  victory  to  Greece,  the  orator 
might  still  have  sworn  by  the  sacred  memory  of  the  dead.  He  who  dies  in 
battle  for  liberty  and  his  country,  dies  the  death  of  a  soldier  and  sleeps  in  a 
hero's  grave. — Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  I  speak  not  here  for  my  client  merely  ; 
I  speak,  for  you  and  your  children,  and  your  children's  children — I  speak  not 
here  for  myself — my  lamp  of  life  is  dickering  and  must  soon  be  extinguished  ; 
but  were  I  now  standing  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,  and  uttering  the  last  words 
of  expiring  nature,  I  would  say  '  May  Ireland  be  happy  ;  may  Ireland  be 
free.'  I  call  upon  you  as  you  value  liberty — as  you  value  justice — as  you 
value  public  good — as  you  value  peace — a?  you  value  and  love  the  country  of 
your  birth  and  the  land  of  your  fathers — I  call  upon  you  by  your  verdict  of 
acquittal,  this  day,  to  contribute  your  parts  towards  making  Ireland  happy  and 
free." 


EFFECT   OF  THE  SPEECH. 


391 


A  long  deep-drawn  breath,  accompanied  by  a  burst  of  ap- 
plause, followed  the  concluding  remark.  The  whole  audience 
rose  from  their  stooping  position,  for  the  attention  of  all 
had  been  so  intensely  riveted  to  the  speaker,  that  they  had 
unconsciously  leaned  forward  as  if  drawn  by  the  attrac- 
tion of  a  powerful  magnet ;  and  could  it  have  been  permit- 
ted, as  in  the  days  of  Greece  and  Rome,  they  would  have 
borne  the  glorious  old  Barrister  and  his  client  in  triumph  from 
the  clutches  of  the  law  through  all  the  streets  of  Dublin, 
and  made  the  welkin  ring  with  shouts  of  admiration  and 
praise,  which  would  have  raised  Erin  from  the  sleep  of  cen- 
turies to  deeds  of  greatness  and  glory,  to  freedom,  honor 
and  peace.  But  alas,  the  hammer  of  "law and  order"  soon 
crushed  the  awakened  patriotism  of  a  nation.  Justice 
rent  her  scales,  and  the  bird  of  Jove  flapped  her  dark  wings 
sullenly  and  departed,  to  a  fairer  clime  ;  while  the  broken 
clouds,  which  seemed  to  indicate  the  termination  of  the 
storm  which  had  lowered  so  long  over  the  Emerald  Isle, 
gathered  in  deeper  folds,  and  the  thunder  of  despotic  power 
rolled  its  heavy  wheels  over  the  last  hope  of  Irish  liberty. 

The  old  Baron  looked  up  as  if  glad  it  was  over;  the 
prisoner  smiled  as  if  a  ray  of  hope  gleamed  dimly  upon 
his  heart,  and  the  deep  sentiment  of  gratitude  struggled  for 
utterance  to  the  man  who  had  done  him  and  the  cause  of 
his  country,  for  which  he  was  in  bonds,  such  ample  justice ; 
and  every  other,  man  and  woman,  wiped  off  the  tear  which 
still  trembled  in  their  eves,  and  smoothed  their  features  to 
a  more  complacent  look,  as  if  willing  now  to  abide  the  re- 
sult, satisfied  that  every  thing  had  been  done  that  could  be, 
and  if  evil  must  come,  they  would  submit  to  it  with  patient 
fortitude.  I  have  heard  men  speak  who  were  called  orators, 
but  their  productions  are  puerile  compared  with  this.  I 
have  read  of  Greek  and  Roman  eloquence,  but  here  I  have 
seen  its  traces  as  it  swept  along  like  a  mighty  rushing  wind, 
while  all  within  its  influence  bowed  before  its  resistless  force 
as  if  to  do  it  homage.  I  shall  never  forget  that  speech,  so 
long  as  memory  clings  to  the  best  and  mightiest  efforts  of 


392 


DENSE   CROWDS   OF  PEOPLE. 


mortal  men,  or  injured  justice  claims  an  advocate  of  her 
cause. 

After  silence  had  been  restored,  Mr.  Hen,  Q.  C,  rose  to 
present  the  concluding  argument  for  the  government.  He 
paid  a  high  tribute  to  the  masterly  oration  of  the  counsel  for 
the  defence,  and  proceeded  to  the  delivery  of  an  indifferent 
speech,  during  which  we  left. 

The  crowd  outside  the  court-house,  up  and  down  Green 
street,  had  become  immense.  Will  they  clear  him?  Will 
they  find  him  guilty?  Will  they  hang  him?  Will  the 
jury  agree?  were  questions  asked  a  thousand  times,  by 
men  and  women,  as  we  worked  our  way  through  the  crowd. 
Every  body  in  the  vast  multitude  were  waiting  with  the 
most  intense  anxiety  to  hear  the  result,  and  discussing  the 
probabilities  in  the  most,  favorable  light.  Poor  creatures, 
thought  I,  you  are  indulging  a  most  fallacious  hope,  hugging 
a  fantom  or  a  viper,  which  will  soon  leave  you  the  sadness 
of  disappointment,  or  the  fury  of  madness. 

Troops  of  policemen  were  busy  every  where,  trying  to 
disperse  the  people.  Joining  hand  in  hand,  they  would 
sweep  along  the  crowd  for  several  rods,  when,  like  the  parted 
waters,  a  mightier  mass  would  press  upon  the  vacuum  in 
their  rear,  and  they  would  be  compelled  to  surge  back  again, 
to  maintain  their  ground.  Next  a  troop  of  mounted  police- 
men would  dash  into  the  multitude  and  extricate  the  be- 
leaguered band.  As  yet  there  was  no  outbreak,  no  violence, 
but  the  more  considerate  were  in  momentary  expectation 
there  would  be  an  emeute  of  the  most  serious  character. 

As  far  as  we  could  see,  in  all  directions,  the  streets  were 
full  of  people  of  all  grades  and  ages,  from  well  dressed  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  to  ragged,  and  half-starved  children.  We 
had  not  gone  a  dozen  rods  before  a  crowd  pressed  upon  us, 
followed  up  by  a  dozen  mounted  policemen.  We  found 
safety  in  a  shop.  In  a  few  minutes  the  multitude  swept  up 
in  the  opposite  direction.  Nobody  showed  any  respect  for 
the  officers.  Some  laughed  at  them  and  ridiculed  their  ef- 
forts to  control  the  people.    Some  taunted  them  as  the 


INTENSE  EXCITEMENT. 


393 


minions  of  oppression,  hired  to  abuse  their  countrymen. 
Others  defied  them  to  show  their  authority,  mocking  them 
as  mean  and  contemptible.  It  was  evident  the  policemen 
did  not  dare  to  do  as  thev  would  in  ordinary  cases — that 
they  feared  the  people.  Where  there  were  no  policemen 
there  was  no  trouble,  no  confusion.  So  true  it  is  that  the 
useless  display  of  power  awakens  a  feeling  of  disobedience., 
as  the  training  of  armies,  begets  the  spirit  of  war,  and  the 
execution  of  criminals  a  thirst  for  blood,  and  recklessness 
of  life. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  whisper,  like  a  breeze  in  a  sultry 
day,  that  the  jury  could  not  agree.  A  ray  of  joy  gleamed 
from  every  countenance,  as  if  new  life  had  been  awakened, 
and  the  hour  of  deliverance  drew  near.  The  women 
laughed,  and  told  it  to  their  babies,  whom  they  hugged  clo- 
ser to  their  breasts ;  the  little  boys  and  girls  were  gay 
again  ;  and  a  glimmering  of  hope  lighted  the  faces  of  the 
most  fearful  and  despondent.  Still,  an  awful  anxiety  was 
manifest  in  many,  that  the  danger  was  not  all  past,  and 
such  seemed  as  restless  as  if  their  own  fate  was  at  stake. 
I  confess  I  shared  deeply  in  that  feeling.  All  my  sympa- 
thies had  become  enlisted  in  behalf  of  the  prisoner  and  his 
cause,  hopeless  and  rash  as  I  deemed  his  efforts  to  have 
been,  and  impossible  as  I  knew  the  work  he  had  undertaken 
to  accomplish  for  his  country.  But  he  had  stood  up  in  de- 
fence of  principles  which  are  eternally  true,  if  not  always 
practicable.  He  had  advocated  the  doctrine  of  human 
rights.  He  had  aimed  at  a  higher  form  of  government 
than  that  which  brute  force  and  usurpation  had  inflicted  on 
his  country — at  a  Republic,  which  should  recognize  the 
mutual  rights  and  dependencies  of  all  her  citizens,  and  se- 
cure universal  freedom  and  equal  justice  to  God's  children. 
He  had  been  led  to  this  course  in  compliance  with  no  fixed 
formulary  of  human  politics;  by  no  Utopian  dream  of  wild 
theorists  ;.  by  no  hope  of  selfish  or  personal  aggrandizement. 
He  had  followed  the  clear  inductions  of  reason,  the  sound* 
est  principles  of  Christian  liberty  and  philanthropy,  free 


394 


MR.   MITCH  EL  S  PURPOSE. 


from  the  influence  of  feudal  nobility  and  hereditary  injus- 
tice. He  had  spurned  the  exclusive  privileges  of  caste, 
and  scorned  the  rewards  of  sycophancy.  A  Protestant  by 
birth  and  education,  he  had  become  too  liberal  to  be  a  par- 
tisan or  a  bigot,  and  desired  to  see  his  countrymen  united 
upon  the  higher  principles  of  Christian  fraternity.  A  true- 
hearted  Irishman,  he  had  deplored  the  ignorance,  misery, 
and  oppression  of  his  nation,  and  resented  the  wrongs  and 
disgrace  she  had  so  long  suffered,  by  her  own  dissensions 
and  neglect,  at  the  hands  of  tyrant  lords,  and  moneyed  aris- 
tocracies. As  a  Christian  of  true  faith,  ardent  love,  and  a 
pure  life,  he  had  confidence  in  truth,  hope  in  virtue,  and  a 
will  to  work  for  the  accomplishment  of  what  he  deemed 
his  duty.  He  relied  upon  the  justice  of  his  cause,  the  ci- 
vilization of  the  age,  the  honor  of  his  nation,  the  humanity 
of  his  fellow-men,  for  the  success  of  his  efforts,  and  the  re- 
ward of  his  labors.  He  trusted  in  God  and  his  country- 
men, to  whom  he  appealed,  in  whose  name  he  spoke,  and 
before  whom  he  acted  openly,  fearlessly,  zealously,  if  not 
wisely  or  successfully.  His  greatest,  if  not  his  only  fault, 
was,  like  that  of  Emmet,  Hampton,  Sidney,  and  others, 
martyrs  who  perished  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  that  he 
did  not  scrutinize,  with  sufficient  caution,  the  signs  of  the 
times,  nor  weigh,  as  he  should,  the  forfeit  he  was  making. 
But  it  ever  has  been  thus.  Truth  and  Justice  have  had 
their  martyrs  in  all  ages,  whom  Tyranny  has  immolated 
upon  the  altar  of  human  freedom ;  but  their  roots  have 
been  wet  with  the  life-blood  of  the  faithful,  and  their 
branches  have  afterward  overshadowed  the  children  of 
those  who  have  fallen  to  nourish  their  growth.  The  me- 
mories of  such  are  always  blessed,  and  their  names  become 
the  watchwords  of  after  generations. 

That  was  a  long  and  anxious  hour.  There  was  no  noise, 
no  commotion,  no  demonstration  of  hostility.  Every 
thing  was  still  and  silent,  like  the  lull  which  precedes  the 
bursting  of  a  thunder-storm.  All  the  elements  of  life  clus- 
tered  close  about  the  heart,  and  men  grew  pale  with  sus- 


CONTINUED  ANXIETY. 


395 


pense.  Dense  clouds  spread  their  dark  folds  athwart  the 
heavens,  and  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  gleamed  through 
the  open  spaces.  Never  did  a  Peruvian  watch  with  keen- 
er anxiety  the  sullen  stillness  which  precedes  the  destroying 
earthquake  that  may  desolate  his  city,  destroy  property 
and  home,  and  slay  his  wile  and  children,  than  those  sturdy 
Irishmen  awaited  the  announcement  of  the  fate  of  the  friend 
and  advocate  of  their  cause.  Never  did  Arabian  mother 
clasp  her  child  more  nervously,  at  the  sight  of  the 
approaching  simoom,  than  these  Irish  mothers  did  their 
infants.  Lan^ua^e  can  not  describe  the  intensitv  of  feel- 
ing  which  marked  every  countenance.  No  hope  was  left 
but  in  the  decision  of  law — British  law — law  framed  to 
crush  Irish  liberty,  and  silence  the  complaints  of  the  peo- 
ple ?  And  what  would  be  the  result  of  this  trial,  under 
such  a  law  ?  The  physical  force  was  too  immense  to  be 
resisted,  for  Irishmen  have  no  weapons  for  a  combat.  The 
sanctity  of  a  fair  trial  by  jury  had  been  violated,  and  it 
onlv  remained  to  see  what  virtue  was  left  in  men,  under 
such  untoward  circumstances. 

The  throng  did  not  at  all  diminish,  nor  the  deep  anxiety 
wane  a  jot,  till  a  sudden  murmur,  followed  by  a  shriek  of 
despair,  burst  from  fifty  thousand  lips,  and  told  the  final  re- 
sult. There  was  no  rush  ;  no  shout  of  vengeance  ;  no  de- 
fiance of  powTer ;  but  a  deep,  sullen  expression  of  contempt, 
mingled  with  shame  at  the  consciousness  of  inabilitv  to  re- 
sist  the  rule  of  wrong,  and  the  oppressions  of  injustice. 
Those  near  by  us  grated  their  teeth,  as  a  deep  shudder 
passed  over  them,  clenched  their  fists,  while  a  vacant  stare 
told  the  hopelessnes  of  their  hearts.  It  was  a  mere  spasm, 
and  it  immediately  passed  away,  leaving  them  weak  and  ir- 
resolute, and  harmless  as  the  caged  lion.  The  multitude 
began  to  disperse — one  by  one  they  passed  away,  as  if  un- 
willing to  hear  or  answer  a  word. 

Soon  a  crowd  rushed  down  the  street,  and  we  supposed 
the  fearful  fray  had  begun.  But,  in  a  few  moments,  an 
"  inside  car'  dashed  by  us,  over  the  bridge,  at  a  furious 


THE  TERMINATION. 


rate,  followed  by  three  mounted  policemen,  and  a  crowd  of 
men  and  boys,  hooting  and  groaning  at  a  doleful  rate.  On 
inquiry,  we  learned  that  the  foreman  of  the  jury,  Mr. 
Whithy,  was  in  it,  and  that  all  the  jurors  had  been  sent 
home  in  like  manner,  under  a  strong  detachment  of  police, 
to  protect  them  from  the  fury  of  an  indignant  populace. 

I  could  not,  after  all,  forbear  the  thought  that  such  is,  too 
often,  the  display  of  Irish  patriotism.  Instead  of  a  high 
and  noble  defence  of  their  cause,  they  descend  to  a  mere 
personal,  guerilla  warfare,  and  think  to  redress  their 
wrongs  by  taking  vengeance  on  some  hated  individual. 
But  such  is  the  fruit  of  ignorance,  and,  in  their  case,  may 
be  easily  accounted  for.  Shut  out  from  all  intercourse 
with  great  and  noble  spirits  which  have  lived  and  tri- 
umphed, tvrannized  over  by  civil  officers,  domineering 
priests,  and  oppressive  landlords,  they  have  learned  no 
other  lesson  than  submission,  and,  when  outraged  nature 
does  assert  a  claim,  it  takes  the  first  and  lowest  form  of 
vengeance.  They  can  not  rise  to  high  and  noble  efforts, 
seize  upon  the  primary  cause  of  their  wrongs,  and  remove 
them. 

Every  where  the  military,  as  well  as  the  police,  was  on 
the  alert.  Troops  of  soldiers,  cavalry,  artillery,  and  infantry, 
"  armed  and  equipped,"  ready  for  a  fight,  were  marching 
through  the  streets  in  all  directions.  The  people  stole  away 
to  their  homes,  to  weep  in  private  over  this  fresh  proof  of 
their  degradation,  and  nurse  their  sullen  vengeance.  They 
felt,  that  they  were  a  conquered  people,  a  ruined  nation. 
Heretofore  they  flattered  themselves  that  they  had  some 
privileges,  some  chances  of  improvement,  some  ground  of 
hope.  Their  leaders  had  told  them  so,  and  England  had 
admitted  it,  in  word.  The  fallacy  of  such  notions  was  now 
apparent.  The  British  lion  had  growled  his  decision,  and 
commanded  the  people  to  submit  in  silence.  I  wonder  no 
longer  that  the  Irish  hate  the  English.  When  did  a  man 
love  the  power  that  oppressed  him  ?  Nature  would  prove 
recreant  to  her  first  dictates  were  such  to  be  the  case.  And, 


IRELAND  VALUABLE  TO   ENGLAND.  397 

so  long  as  a  spark  of  patriotism  burns  in  the  Irish  heart, 
there  will  live  the  spirit  of  hostility  to  English  usurpation 
and  tyranny.  England  must  treat  Ireland  as  a  friend,  as 
an  equal,  as  a  member  of  the  Union,  before  Irishmen  will 
be  satisfied  with  the  government.  It  is  common  to  hear 
Englishmen  speak  with  contempt  of  Ireland,  asserting  that 
they  should  be  a  great  deal  better  without  it.  Why,  then, 
in  the  name  of  sincerity,  does  not  England  let  Ireland  go  ? 
Why  not  release  the  unholy  bonds  of  the  Union,  and  rid 
themselves  of  such  a  nuisance  ?  Why  this  tenacious  grasp 
upon  a  nation  so  worthless  ?  Oh,  forsooth,  they  say, 
"  France,  or  the  United  States,  will  at  once  form  an  alliance 
with  Ireland  Vs  Such  remarks  remind  me  of  certain  men 
in  our  country  who  say,  slavery  is  a  curse,  but  get  mad  and 
rave  if  any  body  talks  about  removing  it. 

Ireland  is  of  immense  value  to  England.  It  furnishes 
her  armies  and  navy  with  men,  her  markets  with  provisions, 
her  lords  and  gentry  with  the  easy  means  of  subsistence; 
and,  I  might  add.  her  councils  with  some  of  her  most  dis- 
tinguished men,  yea,  and  her  halls  of  literature  and  science 
with  the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  age.  England  can  not 
afford  to  lose  Ireland.  Let  her  then  be  treated  with  respect, 
as  a  friend,  and  an  equal.  Let  her  no  longer  be  oppressed 
and  trodden  under  foot.  Let  not  her  sons  and  daughters  be 
starved  and  abused  to  that  degree  which  drives  them  to 
desperation,  and  compels  them  to  abjure  their  country,  and 
fly  to  foreign  lands.  England  boasts  of  her  magnanimity. 
Let  her  show  the  proof  of  it  to  this  wretched  people,  and 
these  armies  may  be  disbanded,  or  sent  to  rob  the  Sikhs  of 
their  territory,  or  whip  the  Chinese  to  buy  her  opium. 

I  have  been  thinking,  too,  of  the  folly  and  rashness  of 
Mitchel  and  his  compeers.  There  is  not  the  least  chance 
of  accomplishing  any  thing  by  the  measures  they  propose. 
Ireland  is  not  prepared  for  resistance.  She  has  no  arms, 
no  ships,  and,  what  is  more,  no  spirit  of  unity.  She  lacks 
the  sinews  of  war — she  has  neither  money  nor  credit. 
How  can  such  a  people  cope  with  the  mistress  of  the  seas  ? 

34 


398 


IRISH   SOLD[ERS   WILL   NOT  REVOLT. 


Ten  thousand  well  appointed  troops  could  conquer  Ireland 
in  a  month.  Unless  the  priests  would  lead  the  people,  none 
would  fight ;  and  their  vocation  is  hetter  understood  than 
in  the  days  of-  Peter  the  Hermit.  A  single  sprinkling  of 
holy-water  on  any  army  which  could  be  collected  here, 
and  the  word  of  a  priest,  would  scatter  it  to  the  four  winds. 
England  has  cunningly  studied  their  influence  and  appealed 
to  their  cupidity  by  promising  to  grant  them  a  support 
from  the  national  treasury. 

An  idle  hope  has  been  whispered  that  the  soldiery,  as  in 
France,  will  fraternize  with  the  people,  as  soon  as  a  colli- 
sion takes  place,  and  an  opportunity  for  revolt  is  given 
them.  There  is  not  the  least  ground  for  such  expectation. 
England  understands  the  matter  too  well.  The  soldiers  and 
policemen  are  too  well  fed,  and  clothed,  and  paid,  to  strike  the 
hand  that  feeds  them.  They  are  like  Dr.  Madden's  clergy 
which  can  be  "  managed  like  cannon,  whose  mouths  are 
pointed  just  as  they  please  who  fill  their  bellies."  I  have 
talked  with  several,  who  feel  very  keenly  the  wrongs  and 
disgrace  inflicted  upon  their  country,  but  I  never  heard 
one  of  them  hint  at  a  revolt.  They  curse  the  civil,  but 
bless  the  military  power.  They  swear  vengeance  against 
the  magistrate  who  fines  or  imprisons  a  repealer,  distrains 
or  evicts  a  tenant,  and  would  join  in  a  mob,  to  take  ven- 
geance for  such  acts  ;  but,  at  the  beat  of  the  drum,  they 
would  fly  to  their  quarters,  arm  themselves,  and  shoot 
down  the  very  men  with  whom  they  had  taken  part  ten 
minutes  before.  Such  is  the  anomalous  character  of  this 
people.  They  are  like  hawks  employed  in  falconry,  trained 
to  devour  their  own  species. 

Of  one  thing  I  am  quite  certain  :  that  all  attempts  at  a 
forcible  repeal  of  the  Union  will  prove  abortive,  till  Britain 
shall  have  reached  the  culminating  point ;  her  distant  colo- 
nies shall  revolt,  and  her  returning  armies,  like  those  of 
Rome,  proclaim  a  revolution,  and  maintain  it.  Ireland's 
hope  is  in  the  gradual  relaxation  of  the  partial  laws  of 
feudalism  which  have  so  long  scourged  her.    England  will 


INCAPACITY   FOR   A  REPUBLIC. 


399 


do  this  as  well,  as  certainly  and  as  soon  as  Ireland,  if  set 
free,  would  do  it  for  herself,  and,  in  my  opinion,  much  soon- 
er. Ireland  suffers  most  from  her  own  nobility.  "  A  no- 
bility sanctioned  by  British  laws,"  you  say.  Very  true  ; 
but  is  it  certain  that  a  revolution,  in  the  present  social  con- 
dition, would  remove  all  the  claims  and  influence  of  aris- 
tocratic privilege  in  Church  and  State?  Who  ever 
heard  of  a  nation  so  rent  by  factions,  so  hostile  in  their  lo- 
cal and  religious  prejudices,  so  clannish  in  all  their  feelings 
and  associations,  rising  to  republican  equality  ?  France  is 
trying  it.  She  tried  it  once  before.  It  is  hoped  that  first 
lesson  is  not  lost  upon  her  people.  But  the  French  are  not 
Irish,  by  a  long  way.  They  are  more  versatile,  more 
tractable,  less  clannish,  and  not  half  so  servile,  because 
not  so  long  and  sadly  depressed.  Portions  of  Ireland 
may  be  ready  for  a  free  government.  Many  a  noble  heart 
there  is,  which  beats  hisrh  and  hard  for  libertv.  Of  such  I 
have  not  been  speaking.  Of  the  masses  I  say,  they  are  not 
qualified  for  freedom.  They  could  not  solve  the  anarchy 
which  would  follow  revolution  into  the  elements  of  repub- 
lican order  and  good  government.  And  who  of  their  own 
countrvmen  would  thev  follow  ?  Besides,  I  have  little  faith 
in  the  stability  of  republics  made  for  the  people,  and  given 
to  them.  They  must  make  them  for  themselves.  Repub- 
licans alone  can  found  a  republic. 

But  it  should  be  remembered  that  these  stirs  and  risings 
are  the  preparations  for  liberty.  Furious  storms  purify  the 
air.  The  child  gains  strength  by  exercise.  It  may  fall 
and  hurt  itself  a  hundred  times.  It  grows  wise  and  strong 
by  its  efforts.  These  are  the  lessons  of  humanity,  de- 
signed for  the  rulers  and  the  ruled.  He  must  be  a  dull 
scholar  who  will  not  profit  by  them.  Who  does  not  know 
that  along  with  enlightenment  goes  liberty  ?  Mind  is  su- 
perior to  matter,  and  the  will  guides  the  action.  In  poli- 
tics as  in  religion,  so  long  as  kings  can  keep  the  people  ig- 
norant, they  can  exercise  despotic  power.  Let  them  once 
be  informed,  and  such  power  is  at  an  end     Ignorance  k 


400 


SOME  TRAISE  FOR  ENGLAND. 


anarchy  ;  knowledge  is  freedom.  The  intermediate  is  the 
empire  of  tyrants ;  the  field  where  oppressors  do  their 
work.  Ignorance  will  have  no  government.  Wisdom  and 
goodness  treats  all  with  equal  justice. 

The  duty  is  plain  :  let  the  people  be  instructed — let  them 
grow  wise  by  self-culture,  and,  like  one  of  old,  they  will 
soon  "  know  more  than  all  their  teachers."  Until  they  are 
so,  let  governments  be  indulgent,  and  throw  no  hindrance 
in  the  way  of  knowledge  to  stay  the  progress  of  humanity 
towards  its  glorious  destiny,  its  complete  enfranchisement 
in  the  light  and  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God.  Let  not  a 
blind  selfishness,  a  vain  ambition,  deceive  those  who,  for 
the  time,  are  entrusted  with  power,  either  in  state  or 
church,  to  keep  them  in  ignorance,  to  sustain  a  dynasty  ; 
for  who  would  be  a  king  of  fools,  or  priest  of  bigots  ? 

England  has  made  some  long  strides  in  the  work  of  re- 
form and  progress.  She  is  marching  on  towards  liberty. 
She  is  solving  difficult  problems  in  the  science  of  govern- 
ment. Every  year  carries  her  forward.  Though  occa- 
sionally there  may  seem  to  be  a  retrograde  movement,  it  is 
only  apparent.  The  earth,  in  its  orbit,  seems  to  roll  back 
by  its  diurnal  revolutions.  Humanity  will  progress.  The 
world  must  be  free.  In  theory,  we  are  in  advance  of  Eng- 
land. In  practice,  carrying  out  the  details  of  government, 
she  is  not  far  in  the  rear — occasionally  she  darts  ahead,  and 
leads  the  way.  Her  hostility  to  Ireland,  and  support  of 
Irish  lords  and  prelates,  is  a  drawback  on  her  greatness. 
But  these  commotions  ended,  a  new  line  of  policy  will  be 
adopted  towards  this  ill-fated  country  : — bankrupt  estates 
will  be  sold ;  absentee  landlords  sent  home ;  the  burdens 
will  be  lessened  ;  religious  equality  granted,  and  a  general 
system  of  paternal  treatment  adopted,  which  can  not  fail  to 
inspire  confidence,  encourage  industry,  and  promote  order, 
contentment,  and  prosperity.  Such  a  revolution  would  do 
infinitely  more,  in  five  years,  than  all  the  commotions,  and 
wars,  and  rebellions  of  eight  centuries — more  than  all  the 
repeal  and  embryo  revolutions  of  Orange-men,  Ribbon- 


ANOTHER  SLEEPLESS  NIGHT. 


401 


men,  Molly-Maguires,  or  United  Irishmen  have  ever 
dreamed  of.  It  can  not  be  that  England  will  long  remain 
deaf  to  such  plain  demands  of  justice,  humanity,  and  reli- 
gion. She  can  not  be  so  blind  to  her  own  interests.  Once 
let  such  a  course  be  adopted,  and  all  cause  of  commotion 
will  cease,  intimidations  will  no  longer  be  complained  of, 
and  Ireland  will  become  the  strong  arm  of  the  British  Em- 
pire. All  will  be  satisfied  with  it.  Catholics,  Protest- 
ants, Dissenters,  Repealers,  Orange-men,  Ribbon-men — all, 
with  one  united  voice,  will  praise  the  jusiice,  honor  the 
nobleness,  and  cheerfully  obey  the  laws  of  a  good  govern- 
ment, for  the  Irish  are  not  an  ungrateful  people.  There 
will  be  no  chance  for  agitation,  for,  "where  no  fuel  is, 
the  fire  goeth  out."  Englishmen  say  "the  Irish  will  be  sa- 
tisfied with  nothing."    Give  them  something,  and  see. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

JOURNEY  TO  THE  NORTH. 

Phoenix  Park. — Cars. — Scenery. — Drogheda. — Carrickmacross. — A  Fair, — 

IMonoghan. — A  Conversation. — Bally gawley. — Fintona. — Sunday.  

Omagh. — Strabane. — Londonderry. — The  Foyle. — Giant's  Causeway. — 
Farewell. 

May  27. — An  other  horrid  night.  The  warring  ele- 
ments of  my  humanity  have  been  so  agitated  I  could  not 
sleep.  What  is  more  intolerable  than  a  night  of  sleepless, 
feverish  agitation,  when  the  memories  of  the  past,  and  the 
plans  of  the  future  are  all  jumbled  together  in  wild  confu- 
sion ;  when  one  drowses  and  dreams,  not  knowing  whether 
he  is  in  the  body  or  out  of  it,  whether  he  is  rational  or  a 
maniac,  alive  and  a  man,  or  dead  and  a  demon.  A  blessed 
thing  is  sleep,  to  him  who  has  it,  but  a  real  tantalus  to  one 
afflicted  with  coma  vigil.  The  wig  and  cassock  of  the 
old  Baron,  and  the  scowl  upon  his  wrinkled  face ;  the  bland 

34* 


402 


PHOENIX  PARK. 


smile  and  dignified  manner  of  the  venerable  Barrister  ;  the 
tones  of  his  silvery  voice  ;  the  sublime  eloquence  of  his 
rounded  periods ;  the  shout,  and  the  brandishing  batons  ; 
the  ghost  of  poor  Mitchel,  so  wan  and  pale,  gazing  wistfully 
upon  wife,  and  children,  and  the  desolations  of  Erin  ;  the 
clank  of  chains ;  the  creaking  bolts  ;  the  tramp  of  senti- 
nels !    Oh,  horror,  what  a  night ! 

It  is  morning — clear,  beautiful,  and  quiet.  Here  and 
there  a  market-woman,  with  barrow,  basket,  or  pail,  wends 
her  way,  with  a  few  vegetables,  to  the  market.  We  follow 
them.  It  is  Saturday,  and  the  market  is  very  full  of  mut- 
ton, veal,  butter,  cabbage,  and  other  varieties.  Food  is 
cheaper  here  than  at  home,  except  what  is  imported. 
Protection,  for  revenue,  robs  the  common  people  of  all 
luxuries. 

We  took  a  jaunting-car,  and  rode  through  the  Phoenix 
Park.  Platoons  of  soldiers,  with  haggard  faces  and  dewy 
caps,  were  still  patroling  the  streets  ;  multitudes  were  pa- 
raded in  the  Park,  about  the  mansion  of  the  Lord  Lieute- 
nant. We  rode  on,  no  one  disturbing  us,  through  the  vast 
and  beautiful  grounds,  by  winding  avenues,  shady  lanes, 
dense  groves,  silvery,  ponds,  and  flowery  paths.  A  charm- 
ing spot !  Herds  of  deer  were  feeding  quietly  on  the 
grassy  lawns,  disturbed  only  by  the  evolutions  of  the  sol- 
diers. What  a  contrast  with  the  condition  of  the  masses 
in  this  country  !  The  vice-regal  mansion  is  a  plain,  com- 
fortable building,  not  much  superior  to  some  we  see  along 
the  Hudson.  His  Excellency  was  not  astir,  and  we  cared 
not  to  disturb  his  troubled  slumbers  with  any  of  our  repub- 
lican ideas !  We  bowed  to  the  sentinels  guarding  him, 
and  passed  on,  querying  whether  it  is  better  to  be  guarded 
in  a  palace,  from  the  insults  of  an  outraged  people,  or  in  a 
prison,  from  an  oppressive  government  I  had  a  mind  to 
tell  the  soldiers  and  cavalry  to  "  keep  off  the  grass,"  as  we 
are  told  in  our  parks,  for  it  would  not  be  worth  a  cent  for 
the  sheep  and  goats  upon  which  this  poor  people  are  so  de- 
pendent.   Fudge  on  this  pomp  and  parade  of  nobility  ! 


LEAVE  DUBLIN. 


403 


What  an  abuse  of  God's  blessings !  Our  President  has  no 
soldiers  to  guard  his  life.  What  a  mighty  fuss  about  the 
words  of  a  small,  middle-aged  man,  the  son  of  a  dissenting 
clergyman,  very  respectable  in  every  thing  but  his  lan- 
guage !  Who  will  say  "  words  are  trifles  ?"  Ha,  ha,  ha ! 
this  is  a  great  world  !  and  England  is  a  great  government ! 
Queen  Victoria  is  a  great  woman,  to  be  robbed  of  her  "  royal 
name"  by  such  a  man — an!  Lord  Clarendon  is  a  great 
man,  and  Baron  Lefroy  is  a  great  judge,  and  if  they  do 
not  look  out,  they  will  make  a  great  man  of  John  Mitchel! 

But  I  have  done  with  thee,  Dublin,  thou  city  of  ancient 
splendor  and  modern  shame,  of  magnificent  edifices  and  a 
puny  people.  I  leave  thee  with  no  regret.  I  would  not 
stay  and  hear  sentence  pronounced  upon  that  honest  man, 
who  is  guilty  of  no  crime  but  telling  the  truth,  from  such 
lips  as  that  old  Baron's.  Sweet  words  can  never  pass  such 
a  threshold.  Humane  thoughts  never  dwell  beneath  such 
a  frown.  Heaven  spare  thee  yet  a  little,  and  raise  thy 
250,000  souls,  to  taste  the  sweets  of  love,  intelligence,  and 
liberty. 

At  seven  o'clock,  we  took  cars  for  Drogheda,  on  our 
route  to  the  North.  The  station-house,  though  spacious 
solid,  and  convenient,  has  nothing  of  the  neatness  and 
splendor  of  that  connected  with  the  great  Southwestern 
Railway.  The  cars  come  into  the  second  story,  the  track 
being  on  a  level  with  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  thus  passing 
over  the  streets,  and  avoiding  all  danger  by  contacts  with 
carriages  and  foot-men.  With  a  more  democratic  spirit 
than  we  see,  in  such  cases,  in  our  country,  corporations  are 
not  allowed  to  impinge  the  rights  and  safety  of  the  people, 
but  required  to  build  their  roads  out  of  the  way.  In  no  cases 
are  they  permitted  to  enter  the  dense  portions  of  popu- 
lous cities. 

We  took  our  seats  in  the  second  class,  which  is  here  by 
far  the  most  popular  and  fashionable.  The  first  class  is 
for  the  "nobility  and  gentry."    In  the  train  there  are  three 


404 


ARRANGEMENT   OF  CARS. 


classes.  In  the  first  there  were  but  five  persons ;  in  the 
second  seventy  or  eighty  ;  in  the  third  fifteen  or  twenty. 
The  third  class  answers  to  our  second.  The  prices  differ 
about  one-third.  By  law,  a  train  has  to  be  run  daily  for  a 
penny  a  mile.  The  prices  in  the  other  classes  is  optional 
with  the  companies.  The  cars  are  small,  and  divided  into 
three  apartments,  with  two  rows  of  seats  running  across, 
each  row  facing  the  other,  and,  of  course,  one-half  riding 
backwards.  Each  class  is  on  the  same  plan,  the  only  dif- 
ference is,  the  first  class  has  three  windows  on  a  side,  with 
cushioned  seats  and  stuffed  backs ;  the  second  has  the 
same  except  the  stuffed  backs;  the  third  is  minus  the 
cushions,  and  two  windows  on  a  side.  The  second  class 
cars  have  often  been  used  for  the  first,  but,  like  other  dis- 
tinctions, for  want  of  patronage,  reduced  in  rank  In  some 
cases  the  middle  portion  is  for  the  first  class,  and  that  on 
either  end,  for  the  second.  A  thin  wall  divides  the  ranks 
of  society  !  It  is  but  a  step  from  plebeianism  to  aristocra- 
cy, from  virtuous  intelligence  to  the  caste  of  nobility,  from 
the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous — and  that  is — downward.  An 
inch  board  divides  a  lord  from  an  honest  christian  !  The 
evil  is,  they  sit  back  to  back.  Could  they  but  come  face  to 
face,  these  false  distinctions  would  soon  be  looked  out  of 
countenance. 

The  egress  from  the  city,  by  this  road,  is  remarkably  beau- 
tiful and  interesting.  Being  above  the  interference  of  any 
obstruction  to  the  vision,  a  fine  view  is  obtained  of  the 
semi-circular  bay,  with  its  three  mile  pier,  terminated  by  a 
light-house,  of  the  unique  hill  of  Killiney,  the  charming 
villas,  groves,  and  fields  which  border  the  south  shore,  as- 
cending back  to  the  distant  hills.  Before  us  the  rich  and 
highly  cultivated  grounds  of  Clontarf  spread  off  to  the 
bold  headland  of  Howth,  and  are  adorned  with  old  baronial 
castles,  and  churches,  and  abbeys  in  ruins,  modern  villas, 
and  straggling  hamlets. 

Who  that  knows  aught  of  Irish  history,  has  not  heard  of 
Clontarf  Brian  Boroihme,  and  his  victory  over  Sitric,  king 


ALONG   THE  SEA-COAST. 


405 


of  the  Ostrhen.  Here  is  the  spot  where  that  famous  battle 
was  fought  on  "Good  Friday,"  1014.  Time,  as  if  ashamed 
of  its  deeds,  has  left  no  traces  of  that  fearful  conflict,  in 
which  more  than  eleven  thousand  human  beings,  including 
the  great  Conquerer  and  his  son  Murchad,  were  sacrificed  to 
the  god  of  war.  In  those  days  it  was  heroic  to  die  on  the 
battle-field  ;  and,  by  the  rule  of  the  world's  estimate,  few 
men  more  noble  than  Brian  have  died  more  gloriously. 
He  had  subdued  the  hostility  of  the  different  provinces,  uni- 
ted all  the  clans  of  his  country  under  his  imperial  sceptre, 
twice  beaten  the  Danes,  and  now,  in  the  moment  of  victory, 
receives  his  death- wound ;  and  his  son,  the  heir  to  his 
crown,  falls  by  his  side  !  Yet  Irish  gratitude  has  reared  no 
cenotaph,  but  in  history  and  the  nation's  hearts,  to  mark 
this  spot,  or  commemorate  the  event.  Great  actions  need 
no  monument. 

We  felt  happy  in  being  freed  from  the  tumult  and  excite- 
ment of  the  city ;  glad  to  look  upon  the  open  world  and 
breathe  the  free  air  of  heaven.  The  sea,  near  which  we 
passed,  lay  calm  and  tranquil,  and,  from  its  mirror  surface, 
reflected  the  bright  rays  of  the  morning  sun.  The  rugged 
headlands  and  rocky  islets,  which  rise  boldly  from  the  sea 
to  the  height  of  several  hundred  feet,  with  ancient  round 
towers,  light-houses,  and  modern  Martello  towers,  crowning 
their  summits,  and  the  ruins  of  castles,  churches,  and  ab- 
beys strown  over  them  ;  the  soft  silvery  bays  and  little  in- 
lets, over  which  we  swept  on  our  way,  were  far  more  at- 
tractive than  the  miserable  fishing  villages,  dirty  hovels, 
thatched  cabins,  ragged,  squalid  population,  and  occasional 
aristocratic  mansions,  which  we  passed  on  the  route.  Mala- 
hide,  Lusk,  Rush,  Skerries,  Balbriggan,  are  the  only  places 
of  mention  before  reaching  Drogheda,  and  only  the  last 
of  these  show  many  signs  of  life  and  comfort. 

Drogheda  is  a  large,  close-built  town,  bearing  the  marks 
of  age  and  business.  It  is  situated  on  the  estuarv  of  the 
Boyne,  which  is  navigable  to  the  bridge.  A  considerable 
number  of  small  vessels  are  lying  in  port.    We  noticed 


406 


DHOUHKDA. 


some  very  respectable  buildings,  the  jail,  work -house,  and  bar- 
racks, churches  of  different  denominations,  friaries,  and  nun- 
neries. We  observed  one  convent,  which  is  very  handsomely 
situated,  and  looked  as  if  the  occupants  had  some  respect 
to  the  comforts  of  this  life.  A  passenger  pointed  out  to  us 
an  embattled  tower  of  an  old  abbey,  in  ruins,  a  breach  in 
which  he  said  was  made  by  Cromwell's  cannon — Puritan 
balls  battering  down  Catholic  establishments! — a  poor  way 
to  convert  the  world  !  The  streets  are  narrow,  with  high, 
Dutch  looking  houses,  huddled  together  without  respect  to 
comfort  or  order.  A  fair  show  of  business  is  indicated  by 
a  large  grain  market,  several  cotton,  wool,  flax,  and  corn 
mills;  large  stores,  tanneries,  salt-works,  breweries,  distil- 
leries, and  steam  and  sail  vessels.  We  noticed  some  boats 
on  the  river,  above  the  bridge,  which  ply  into  the  interior 
several  miles. 

Two  miles  up  the  river  is  pointed  out  the  place  of  the 
famous  battle  of  the  Boyne,  in  1690,  where  an  obelisk  has 
been  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  Duke  of  Schomberg, 
who  fell  in  the  fight,  and  near  the  spot  where  king  William's 
army  crossed  the  Boyne 

After  leaving  the  miserable  huts  forming  the  suburbs  of 
the  town,  we  had  little  to  interest  us  for  some  distance,  ex- 
cept the  fun  and  nonsense  of  a  half  drunken  Irishman, 
and  young  fellow  some- way  conrected  with  this  line  of 
coaches.  The  youngster  passed  himself  off  as  the  "  Mar- 
quis of  Collybeg,"  and  claimed  of  the  poor  inebriate,  respect 
due  to  his  station.  Many  a  keen  joke  passed  between 
them  ;  the  incredulous  toper — whom  we  named  "  Lord 
Staggereen" — denying  his  claim  to  such  a  title.  We  were 
not  a  little  amused  at  this  bandying  of  high-sounding  titles 
by  men  not  much  less  worthy  than  many  who  play  their 
pranks  in  sober  earnest.  "  What  makes  the  mighty  differ," 
after  all  ?  These  men  amuse  themselves  and  others  with 
their  nonsense  ;  others  confine  all  the  amusement  to  them- 
selves, and  torture  others  in  doing  it.  I  felt  as  much  respect 
for  the  "  Marquis  of  Collybeg"  as  for  any  other  artificial 


APPEARANCE  OF   THE  COUNTRY. 


407 


nobleman ;  nay  more  than  for  some  of  a  blood,''  far  he  has 
done  the  world  some  service,  and  shown  some  honest  prin- 
ciple, by  making  himself  useful  in  taking  good  care  of  the 
horses — feeding  them  well,  and  keeping  them  sleek  and  fit 
for  the  journey,  while  they  do  little  more  than  kill  time, 
neglect  opportunity,  abuse  confidence,  squander  means, 
vegetate  in  indolence,  a  disgrace  to  themselves  and  human- 
ity. And  "  Lord  Staggereen"  deserved  as  much  of  my 
compassion,  for  having  fallen  under  the  untoward  influences 
of  a  legalized  business,  as  any  aristocratic  family,  whose 
character  and  estates  have  gone  to  decay,  by  their  foolish 
extravagance  and  wicked  habits.    Both  need  a  reform. 

Soon  after  leaving  Drogheda  the  aspect  of  the  country 
changes  ;  instead  of  smooth  rounded  hills,  the  land  becomes 
poorer,  the  hills  more  rocky  and  elevated,  and  the  country 
generally  more  uneven  than  about  Dublin,  or  even  in  the 
south,  except  among  the  mountains  of  Killarney.  As  we 
ascended  the  hills,  we  had  fine  views  of  the  pretty  country 
along  the  Boyne  and  south  of  it,  and  along  the  coast  to  the 
north-east  as  far  as  the  mountains  of  Armagh  and  Down. 
Before  us  the  surface  became  more  uneven,  and  the  hills 
more  rough  and  lofty,  but,  in  some  places,  the  well  tilled 
farms  and  comfortable  dwellings,  the  spreading  valleys,  and 
well-stocked  pastures,  showed  signs  of  thrift  and  industrv, 
sufficient  to  indicate  what  might  be  done  under  more  favor- 
able circumstances  The  face  of  the  country  reminded  me 
of  parts  of  New  England,  but  there  were  wanting  the  neat 
farm  houses,  and  large  barns,  extensive  fields,  thrifty  villages, 
pretty  churches,  school-houses,  and  well-habited  population. 
Every  thing  wears  the  appearance  of  age  and  decay,  like 
farms  whose  owners  have  grown  old  or  died,  and  left  them 
in  the  charge  of  indolent  and  profligate  sons.  Occasionallv 
we  passed  an  estate  under  good  cultivation,  with  an  elegant 
mansion-house,  with  out-buildings,  garden,  shade- trees, 
walks,  fountains,  fields,  every  thing  to  correspond  with  a 
display  of  taste  and  wealth  rarely  seen  at  home.  But  al- 
most invariably,  a  miserable  hamlet  of  thatched  cabins, 


408 


IRISH  VILLAGES* 


tenanted  by  miserable  inhabitants,  the  men  idling  about  the 
taverns,  the  women  "  sitting  on  the  stvle,"  the  children  with 
smutty  faces,  and  almost  bare  of  clothes,  at  play  around  the 
mud -holes  and- muck-heaps  before  the  doors.  Such  sights 
suggested  a  thought  of  an  other  kind  of  New  England  vil 
lages,  where  the  agents  of  the  factories  live,  in  large  hand- 
some houses,  with  a  neat  paling  about  the  front  yards,  while 
the  poor  workers,  men,  women,  and  children,  whose  bones 
and  sinews,  fingers  and  sweat,  time  and  life,  are  wasted  to 
enrich  the  lords  of  the  spindles,  are  crowded  into  rows  of 
low  inconvenient  houses,  dingy  about  the  doors  and  window- 
sills,  and  every  way  slovenly  and  repulsive.  And  I  could  not 
help  comparing  the  actual  condition  of  the  people  living 
under  such  circumstances.  The  contrast  was  so  similar 
I  could  hardly  strike  a  balance  in  favor  of  either.  Both 
depend  upon  the  will  of  their  lord,  for  all  they  have;  for  the 
house  they  live  in,  the  prices  of  labor,  the  means  of  their 
subsistence.  Neither  is  compelled  to  stay  against  their 
will,  but  they  have  no  will — to  do  otherwise.  Both  com- 
plain of  their  condition,  but  neither  has  ability  to  improve 
it.  Both  lead  a  cringing,  servile  life,  and  must  act,  and 
vote,  and  almost  think,  to  suit  their  arrogant  employers. 
Human  nature  is  about  the  same  in  Europe  and  America, 
in  an  Irish  town  or  factory  village,  an  "Up-town,"  or 
"West-End"  palace,  or  Georgia  Plantation. 

A  few  miles  out  from  Drogheda,  the  extensive  remains 
of  an  ancient  abbey  were  pointed  out.  They  stand  on  a 
picturesque  site,  in  a  romantic  valley  about  a  mile  from  the 
road.  The  martial  tower,  which  was  added  to  the  abbey 
after  the  suppression  of  the  monastic  orders,  when  it  was 
converted  into  a  feudal  castle  and  fitted  up  for  a  place  of 
defence,  the  gateway,  and  chapel  are  all  that  remain,  of 
what  was  once  a  vast  religious  establishment.  These  monu- 
ments of  piety  and  pride,  learning  and  superstition,  oppres- 
sion and  indolence,  intolerance  and  war,  carry  the  thoughts 
back  through  strange  and  jarring  elements,  through  which 
humanity  has  jostled  on  to  its  present  somewhat  improved 


COLLON. 


409 


and  hopeful  condition.  And  still  these  monuments  stand  as 
objects  of  curiosity  to  this  age.  especially  to  one  unfamiliar 
as  I  am  with  the  outward  forms  of  religious  and  political 
feudalism.  Wont  to  breathe  the  air  of  liberty  from  my 
childhood,  taught  by  my  father  that  the  only  distinction  to 
be  tolerated  among  men  is  based  on  personal  merit,  and 
that  to  God  every  one  is  responsible  for  what  he  is  and 
what  he  does,  I  have  come  to  have  a  profound  abhorrence 
for  all  the  assumptions  of  aristocracy,  whether  of  birth, 
wealth,  or  profession.  The  man  who  makes  a  good  boot  is 
more  honorable  than  he  who  makes  a  bad  lord.  It  is  not 
the  vocation  that  honors  the  man,  but  the  man  the  voca- 
tion. A  despotic  king,  an  unjust  judge,  a  proud  and  licen- 
tious priest,  an  ungenerous  and  iron-hearted  man  of  wealth, 
and  a  faithless  friend,  are  abominations  in  the  sight  of 
God,  and  the  loathing  of  just  and  honorable  minds. 

Collon  is  a  neat  little  town,  the  property  of  Viscount 
Massarene,  and  formerly  the  residence  of  Lord  Oriel,  the 
last  speaker  of  an  Irish  Parliament.  The  comparative  neat- 
ness and  order  of  this  town,  give  it  an  air  of  comfort  and 
rural  beauty  which  speak  volumes  in  praise  of  the  "  pro- 
prietor." It  is  such  an  evidence  as  every  Irish  landlord 
should  exhibit,  under  existing  laws — a  disposition  to  do  all 
he  can  for  the  improvement  of  his  tenantry,  for  thereby  he 
will  not  only  serve  them  but  enrich  himself,  and  thus  do 
good  service  for  the  world  while  in  it.  But  if  suspicions 
are  not  groundless,  these  improvements,  in  part,  are  owing 
to  English  gold  and  Irish  treachery,  by  which  the  liberty  of 
this  nation  was  bartered  into  the  Union. 

The  road  hence,  by  Ardee,  the  capital  of  Lowth,  to 
Carrickmacross,  runs  through  a  rough  tract  of  country, 
broken  into  rocky  hilis,  narrow  valleys,  full  of  low  mea- 
dows, small  lakes,  and  wet  bogs.  Still,  it  is  romantic, 
and  some  parts  are  tolerably  cultivated.  Decent  dwell- 
ings, all  over  this  county,  have  specific  names,  by  which 
they  are  designated.  Usually,  though  not  always,  the 
name  of  the  town,  village,  or  hamlet  is  appropriated  to 

35 


410 


ARISTOCRATIC  NAMES. 


them,  as  "  Collybeg  Castle,  the  residence  of  the  noble 
Marquis  of  Collybeg :"  "  Potcheen  House,  Lord  Stag- 
gereen  ;"  "  Lackbrain  Lodge,  Earl  Nonsense  11  Fudge- 
ton,  Sir  Nolen  McNinney  ;"  "Killmanfield,  Right  Hon. 
Twistem  Thumbscrew  ;"  "  Dull-lawney,  Pridegirt  O'Fus- 
tiah,  Esq.  ;"  "  Drumdiddle  Hall,  Mrs.  O'Fussbetty  ; " 
"  Groggery  Hollow,  Mrs.  McWhiskey,"  and  such  like 
euphonious  and  expressive  terms.  One  thing  has  struck 
me  with  much  force  :  such  aristocratic  names  sound  ama- 
zingly English,  as  if  they  had  their  origin  and  use  subse- 
quent to  the  Conquest.  I  have  thought  a  new  field  for  the 
exploration  of  English  historians  might  be  found  here,  es- 
pecially for  those  of  the  Philological  Society,  and  that,  by 
tracing  the  form  and  use  of  some  of  these  terms  of  desig- 
nation,  a  little  insight  might  be  gained  into  the  origin  and 
progress  of  aristocratic  privileges  and  oppressions.  Such 
a  work  would,  doubtless,  be  read  with  some  interest  and 
profit,  by  a  certain  class  at  home,  who  ape  the  customs  of 
foreigners,  and  give  great  names  to  parts  of  streets, 
as  if  it  were  more  honorable  to  live  in  "  Humbug  Place" 
than  Humdrum  Avenue.  And  those  who  name  their  old 
farm-houses  by  some  "great  swelling  word"  would  undoubt- 
edly peruse  such  a  work  with  pleasure.  It  might  do  for 
General  Jackson  to  call  his  house  "  The  Hermitage,"  Mr. 
Clay,  "  Ashland,"  and  Mr.  Van  Buren,  "  Lindenwald,"  but 
even  in  them  it  looks  a  little  ^-democratic.  I  once  heard 
a  story  told  of  an  European ized  American  of  some  literary 
pretensions,  who  named  his  residence,  in  honor  and  love  of 
his  wife,  "  Glen-Mary."  An  honest  old  Dutchman,  near 
by,  who  loved  his  wife  as  well,  imitated  the  refined  and  lite- 
rary example,  and  called  his  place  "  Glen-Betsey." 

Carrick macross  is  the  first  town  in  Ulster.  To  us  it 
was  rendered  attractive  by  the  vast  assemblage  of  people. 
It  was  Fair-day,  and  the  street,  for  a  mile,  was  crowded 
with  people,  horses,  hogs,  cows,  asses,  sheep,  and  goata, 
young  and  old  ;  dry  goods,  groceries,  books,  boots,-  dried 


FAIH    AT   CARRICKM  ACROSS. 


411 


fruit,  green  vegetables,  grain,  potatoes,  butter,  cheese — all 
sorts  of  tilings,  jumbled  together  helter-skelter.  Auction- 
eers were  bawling,  pedlars  hawking,  babies  crying,  women 
scolding,  men  drinking,  smoking,  and  quarreling;  the  young 
folks  chatting,  laughing,  dancing,  frolicking.  Beggars  of 
all  descriptions  haunting  us  from  one  end  of  the  town  to  the 
other.  It  was  judged  5000  people,  500  head  of  cattle,  as 
many  sheep,  and  hogs  without  number  were  there,  and 
goods  enough  to  clothe,  and  provisions  enough  to  feed  the 
whole  But,  alas,  few  were  permitted  to  do  more  than 
look  at  them.  It  was  a  sort  of  besrgars'  fair.  The  lame, 
the  halt,  the  blind,  the  sick,  the  decrepit,  were  there,  beg- 
ging of  whom  they  could,  and  exhibiting  their  deformities 
to  excite  sympathy  and  secure  a  penny.  Of  course,  de- 
cently clad  strangers,  able  to  ride  in  a  coach,  could  not  pass 
unbegged.  We  were  importuned  at  every  step.  Here  a 
mother  thrust  her  skeleton  child  into  our  faces ;  an  other 
exposed  her  cancer  breast ;  a  little  girl  led  her  blind 
father  to  us  ;  a  fourth  exhibited  a  fractured  leg.  The  most 
hideous  looking  being  I  ever  saw  in  mortal  shape  was  an 
old  man,  a  complete  skeleton,  doubled  together,  his  chin 
resting  on  his  knees,  with  his  fleshless  legs  and  arms  ex- 
posed to  view.  As  we  passed  him,  he  turned  upon  us  a 
deathly  stare,  and  stretched  out  his  long  thin  arm,  mutter- 
ing a  prayer  in  the  name  of  the  Almighty  and  the  Holy 
Virgin,  that  wre  would  give  him  something  to  keep  him 
from  starving.  His  hollow  cheeks,  projecting  jaws,  eye- 
balls sunken  deep  in  their  sockets — oh,  horror,  I  can  not  de- 
scribe him — the  image  of  Death,  doubled  together ! 

Carrickmacross  was  granted,  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  to  the 
Earl  of  Essex,  and  is  still  possessed  by  his  descendants — 
the  Marquis  of  Bath  has  one  portion,  neglected,  filthy,  and 
miserable ;  Mr.  Shirley  the  other,  who  is  on  the  spot,  to 
look  after  his  estate,  which  shows  signs  of  thrift  and  com- 
fort. How  different  from  the  towns  in  our  country.  Here 
the  will  of  one  man  regulates  every  thing.  The  people 
have  no  will,  or,  what  is  the  same,  no  opportunity  to  exer- 


412 


MONAGHAN. 


cise  it,  no  individual  enterprise,  no  pride,  no  ambition, 
nothing  to  stimulate  them.  They  bend,  by  dire  necessity, 
to  the  dictate  of  their  earth-lord.  If  he  is  a  man  of  soul, 
of  enterprise,  all  goes  very  well  ;  if  the  reverse,  and  a  hard- 
hearted, indolent,  pleasure-loving  spendthrift,  his  tenantry — 
the  population  of  a  whole  town — must  suffer  for  his  sins; 
children  be  brought  up  in  filth  and  ignorance,  on  a  subsist- 
ence barely  sufficient  to  keep  soul  and  body  together. 
More  pains  is  taken  to  rear  a  fine  colt  than  a  fine  child  ;  to 
keep  a  large,  well-filled  hunting  park,  than  a  decent  village, 
furnished  with  the  means  of  comfort  and  intelligence. 
And  then  the  poor  Irish  are  belabored,  by  every  John  Bull, 
as  an  indolent,  worthless  race,  destitute  of  all  enterprise, 
doing  nothing  for  their  own  improvement.  Why  does  one 
side  of  Carrickmacross  present  tokens  of  thrift  and  com- 
fort so  superior  to  the  other  ? 

Passing  Castle  Claney,  a  town  of  some  business,  and 
tolerably  well  built,  we  came  to  Monaghan,  the  county  town, 
where  the  coach  stopped  for  the  passengers  to  dine.  I 
thought  it  a  favorable  place  for  such  a  service ;  but  while 
waiting  for  necessary  preparations,  the  beggars  came  about 
us  so  thick,  and  looked  so  famished  and  destitute,  that  I  could 
not  eat  in  peace.  I  bought  some  small  loaves  of  barley 
bread  and  distributed  among  them.  They  received  them 
with  many  thanks,  and  prayers,  "  May  the  blissed  Virgin 
protict  ye  and  give  ye  a  safe  journey ;  may  the  good 
Lord  reward  ye  in  heaven" — and  devoured  it  with  an  ap- 
parently keen  relish.  I  tried  to  eat  some,  just  to  see  what 
food  they  live  on.  It  was  intolerable ;  so  tough  I  could 
scarcely  masticate  it.  I  was  glad  to  find  others  willing  to 
do  that  service  for  me. 

I  called  at  a  confectionary  and  bought  some  cakes.  The 
keeper,  a  well  dressed  woman,  asked  me  if  I  had  come  from 
Dublin,  and  how  the  case  of  Mr.  Mitchel  had  been  decided. 
I  answered,  against  him.  She  clasped  her  hands  and  raised 
her  eyes,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  my  God,  is  it  possible  !  I  am  a 
Catholic,  but  it  is  a  bitter  shame  that  a  man  like  Mr.  Mitchel 


CONVERSATION   WITH   A  LADY. 


413 


should  be  hung  for  speaking  in  favor  of  his  country,  and 
pleading  for  the  life  and  honor  of  our  people.  But,  alas  !" 
she  sighed,  "  what  can  we  do  ?  Our  landlords  wrench  from 
us  all  our  earnings,  and  our  taxes  eat  up  all  we  have.  We 
shall  soon  all  be  in  the  work-house." 

"  Oh,"  said  I  cheeringly,  "  come  to  America  ;  we  are  all 
lords  there,  and  those  who  will  deserve  it  may  live  com- 
fortably." 

"  W ould  to  God  I  were  there,  for  now  I  have  no  longer 
an  attachment  to  my  country.  We  are  no  country.  We 
are  only  a  province,  the  vassals  of  England  ;  and  they  will 
hang  our  best  men,  for  daring  to  tell  them  the  truth.  Shame, 
shame,  shame,"  and  she  actually  wept. 

I  spoke  some  words  of  encouragement,  assuring  her  they 
would  not  hang  Mitchel,  and  that  steps  would  be  taken  to 
ameliorate  the  condition  of  her  countrymen.  "  Never, 
never  ;  we  have  been  promised  too  long.  England  has  no 
love  for  us." 

"Nor  you  for  them,"  I  interrupted. 

u  No,  by  the  living  heavens,  we  have  not — and  how  can 
we  have  ?  Love  those  who  cheat,  oppress,  and  starve  us  ? 
Never,  so  long  as  I  have  a  heart  to  feel  an  insult." 

"  But  you  should  love  your  enemies." 

"  That  will  do  to  preach  and  talk  about  at  church,  but 
this  is  no  time  to  practice  it.  It  is  a  day  of  vengeance,  a 
time  of  calamity.  We  have  suffered  too  long  and  too 
severely,  to  submit  to  such  cold-blooded  outrages  peaceably. 
You  know  nothing  of  the  miserable  condition  of  this  coun- 
try. And  now  English  bayonets  are  to  stop  our  mouths. 
We  must  submit  in  silence.  When  one  is  angry  it  is  a  re- 
lief to  speak,  and  a  word  will  check  grief.  But  no ;  we 
can  speak  no  more.    Next  they  will  not  let  us  think  " 

"  Ay,  that  is  the  fault  of  your  people,"  said  I ;  "  you  have 
not  been  allowed  to  think  freely.  You  have  been  told 
what  to  think,  and  what  you  must  not  believe.  You  have 
not  been  taught  to  read  God's  word,  to  think,  believe,  and 

35* 


414 


A  PRACTICAL  CHRISTIANITY 


act  for  yourselves,  and  how  can  you  be  free  ?  how  can  you 
unite  to  assert  and  defend  your  rights  ?" 

"  I  confess  there  is  a  wrong,  a  great  wrong,  somewhere ; 
that  we  can  -accomplish  nothing.  And  there  is  now  no 
hope.  O'Cctnnel,  from  the  west,  and  a  Catholic,  could  not 
succeed  ;  and  now  Mr.  Mitchel,  from  the  north,  a  Protestant, 
is  condemned.    We  are  doomed  to  ruin  and  disgrace." 

"  Till  ytfur  people  become  intelligent,  industrious,  and 
capable  of  freedom !" 

"What  of  that?  My  husband  and  myself  have  labored 
industriouslv,  and  been  most  economical ;  we  have  done 
our  best  to  deserve  a  competence.  We  can  barely  live.  It 
takes  every  thing  to  pay  rents  and  cesses,  whether  we  have 
little  or  much.  No,  Sir,  there  is  no  hope  for  Ireland  ;  the 
cloud  of  final  despair  has  closed  over  us,  for  ever.  Our 
doom  is  sealed ;"  and  tears  glistened  in  her  eyes. 

"  But  you  suffer  from  your  associations  with  others,  less 
industrious  and  frugal,  whom  you  are  obliged  to  help  sup- 
port. When  they  become  like  you,  a  better  fortune  will 
attend  you." 

"  That  may  be  true,  in  part.  But  are  not  the  established 
clergy  informed  ?  Are  not  English  lords  informed  ?  Do 
not  the  Queen  and  her  ministers  understand  ?  And  what 
is  done  to  ease  our  burdens,  and  improve  our  condition  ? 
Nothing,  Sir,  nothing,  but,  every  year,  we  are  taxed  more 
and  more  ;  and  if  we  thrive  at  all  our  rents  are  raised.  One 
man  owns  every  thing,  and  we  can  not  remove  to  an  other 
part  of  the  town  to  continue  our  business ;  and  we  must 
continue  where  we  are  and  submit  to  every  oppression,  or 
quit  the  country.  If  you  are  an  American  you  ought  to 
judge  more  correctly,  for  I  hear  you  are  just  and  honorable, 
even  to  the  poor." 

"  I  confess  your  lot  is  hard  ;  and  with  you,  I  agree  that 
the  prospect  of  any  thing  better  looks  dubious  indeed.  I 
can  see  how  you  could  be  better,  but  I  do  not  see  how  you 
are  to  begin  to  improve.    If  your  lords  would  do  right,  all 


MOST  NEEDED. 


415 


would,  in  time,  go  well,  provided  the  people  would  do  right 
also." 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  the  people  ought  to  submit  to  the 
oppressions  and  injustice  inflicted  on  them,''  said  she,  re- 
proachfully. 

"  Not  at  all,  madam  ;  I  mean  they  should  do  right  by 
themselves ;  study  to  be  wise,  to  be  industrious,  to  be  neat, 
to  live  in  peace,  and  shame  their  lords,  and  

"  Shame  their  lords.  Shame  the  devil  as  soon,"  said  she, 
sneeringly.  "  Every  Irishman  will  despise  them  for  the 
wrongs  they  have  done." 

"  That  is  the  evil.  You  have  not  enough  of  the  spirit 
of  forgiveness.  You  mutually  recriminate  one  an  other. 
You  must  all  try  to  do  better ;  you  must  all  repent,  and 
mutually  forgive,  as  you  hope  to  be  forgiven.  Your  priests 
must  instruct,  and  not  rule  the  people  ;  your  lords  must 
help  and  not  oppress  them.  Human  governments  are  no- 
thing where  moral  principle  prevails.  In  short,  you  must 
love,  and  not  devour  one  an  other.  You  must  be  Christians, 
true,  practical,  christians  ;  familiar  with  the  truth  and  pre- 
cepts of  the  gospel.  You  must  rise  above  party,  above  sect. 
You  must  not  be  Catholics  and  Protestants  from  education, 
and  for  the  sake  of  the  party,  bu't  Christians  from  principle, 
from  the  love  of  truth  and  virtue.  In  America  we  have 
all  sorts  of  doctrines  in  religion  and  politics,  but  people 
are  coming  to  be  esteemed  for  what  they  are  worth  morally, 
intellectually,  socially." 

"  That  is  all  well,  and  in  your  country  it  can  be  prac- 
tised :  but  here  I  assure  vou  it  can  not." 

"  Why,  my  dear  woman,  Christianity  can  be  practised 
every  where,  so  be  a  person  has  its  spirit,  and  submits  to 
its  power.  We  may  come  as  far  short  as  you  do.  But  I 
am  speaking  of  the  principle  as  a  means  o  f  progress  and 
social  improvement.  Your  people  have  been  trained  from 
infancy  to  submit  to  the  priest,  to  submit  the  highest  faculty 
of  the  soul — that  which  should  be  independent — appealing 
with  confidence  to  God,  directly,  not  through  another  mor- 


416 


SPIRITUAL   LIBERTY  ENCOURAGED. 


tal.  They  have  not  dared  to  think  for  themselves,  as  an- 
swerable to  the  great  Judge.,  who  knows  the  heart,  and  all 
its  motives.  So,  when  they  are  grown  up,  they  submit  to 
temporal  as  well  as  spiritual  governors,  who  abuse  their 
privilege,  and  play  the  tyrant  at  your  expense.  At  length 
the  burdens  become  insupportable,  and  you  revolt :  First, 
against  that  which  seems  the  more  direct  cause  of  your 
misery ;  that  which  lies  nearest  you  in  your  crushed  con- 
dition— the  landlord,  the  tax-gatherer,  the  State.  If  you 
will  search,  you  will  find,  back  of  all  this,  in  your  habit  of 
submission  to  the  will  and  dictate  of  others,  is  owing  one 
great  cause  of  the  misery  you  complain  of.  You  want 
"soul-liberty"  most.  That  must  precede  every  other. 
1  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  its  righteousness  ;  then 
shall  these  things  be  added  to  you/  " 

"  There  is  some  force  in  your  remarks,  I  must  confess  ; 
but  how  can  we  come  to  understand  them  ?  Stay,  kind 
sir,"  added  she,  imploringly,  "  and  teach  them  to  our  people." 

"  I  fear  your  people  would  not  hear  them  from  a  foreign- 
er, and  a  Protestant  :  and  besides  you  have  men  to  teach 
them  to  you.    You  can  read  them  in  the  Bible." 

"  But  they  have  condemned  Mr.  Mitchel  for  teaching 
them,  and  our  priests  do  not  encourage  us  to  read  the  Bi- 
ble.   Many  can  not  if  they  would." 

"The  error  of  Mr.  Mitchel  was  in  being  too  rash.  He 
had  faith,  but  lacked  'patience/  like  most  other  reformers. 
He  should  have  taken  more  time  to  prepare  the  people  for 
freedom.  It  will  not  do  to  hasten  the  growth,  if  we  would 
have  it  sure  and  strong.  The  oak  is  not  produced  in  a 
day.  Jonah's  gourd  grew  in  a  night,  and  it  perished  in  a 
night  'First  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the  full 
corn  in  the  ear/  Time  is  essential  to  maturity.  As 
for  your  priests,  they  must  study  over  again  the  duties 
of  a  good  minister  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and,  to  their  other  ex- 
cellent qualities  add  an  '  aptness  to  teach,'  and  must  be 
more  zealous  to  serve  than  to  rule  the  people.  For  your- 
selves, you  must  read,  reflect,  and  act.    Teach  these  little 


MONAGIIAN. 


in 


ones,"  continued  I,  looking  at  some  pretty  and  neatly  clad 
children  who  had  a  little  before  came  into  the  room,  "  to 
read  God's  Holy  Word,  to  understand  it,  and  love  and 
obey  it ;  and  persuade  your  neighbors  to  do  so  to  theirs,  and 
such  as  can  not  do  it,  ycu  should  help.  This  is  the  work 
of  humanity,  and  God  will  bless  you  for  it ;  and,  as  soon  as 
your  nation  is  grown  into  the  light  of  knowledge,  it  will 
possess  a  power  that  will  be  irresistible  to  wrong.  By 
knowledge,  your  wrongs  shall  be  redressed,  and  your  peo- 
ple made  free,  and  prosperous,  and  happy." 

She  was  about  to  add  some  thing,  when,  looking  across 
the  "  Diamond"  square,  I  saw  the  horses  harnessed  to  the 
coach.  I  scattered  the  change  she  had  given  me  among 
her  pretty  children,  bade  her  farewell,  and  hastened  to  join 
my  companians,  distributing  my  cakes  among  the  hungry 
beggars  who  flocked  about  us.  The  good  lady  impressed 
me  favorably  by  her  manners  and  intelligence.  Every 
thing  about  her  establishment  looked  neat  and  orderly,  and 
she  certainly  exhibited  a  degree  of  talent  and  feeling  which 
would  honor  the  women  of  any  country.  I  have  not  done 
full  justice  to  her  remarks.  It  was  impossible  to  give  her 
language.  She  spoke  fluently,  and  in  that  round,  smooth 
voice  so  peculiar  to  the  educated  Irish,  and  used  a  style  of 
phraseology  which  must  be  heard  to  be  appreciated  I 
could  not  banish  her  from  my  mind.  She  spoke  with  ear- 
nestness, and  with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  condition  of  her 
country.  There  is  hope  for  Ireland  ;  for  when  the  women 
become  enlisted  in  a  cause,  it  must  prosper.  They  rule  the 
world. 

Monaghan  exhibits  some  signs  of  improvement.  A 
handsome  modern  church,  court-house,  work-house,  college, 
and  some  older  buildings  of  fair  appearance,  such  as  houses 
of  worship  for  the  Catholics,  Presbyterians,  Methodists,  Inde- 
pendents, and  a  few  private  dwellings.  The  jail  and  bar- 
racks must  not  be  omitted,  for  they  stand  prominent  in 
every  large  town.  The  latter  is  a  cavalry  station,  and  a 
fair  show  of  military  is  daily  kept  up  to  frighten  the  people 


418 


EM  V  V  A  L  F.  AUG  II N  ACLOY. 


into  loyalty.  Near  the  town,  we  passed  the  canal,  from 
Belfast  to  Inniskillen,  on  which  we  noticed  a  few  dirty  coal 
boats,  and  one  or  two  loaded  with  grain  and  lumber. 
What  adds  greatly  to  this  town,  is  its  elevated  position,  and 
the  pleasant  groves  about  it,  which,  in  this  country,  so  per- 
fectly destitute  of  any  thing  like  forests,  have  a  peculiar 
charm  we  had  never  attached  to  them. 

The  country,  from  Monoghan  by  Emyvale,  is  prettily  di- 
versified with  hills,  vales,  streams,  and  small  loughs.  The 
farms  are  in  a  tolerable  state  of  improvement.  Every 
thing  looks  decidedly  better  than  is  common  in  the  west 
and  south.  The  farms  are  smaller  and  better  cultivated, 
the  cottages  neater  and  more  comfortable ;  the  people  are 
better  dressed,  and  appear  more  cheerful  and  intelligent ; 
and,  out  of  the  towns.,  there  is  less  begging,  and  fewer 
sights  of  abject  misery.  Still  there  is  not  that  marked  im- 
provement we  had  hoped  to  find  in  Ulster,  from  all  we  had 
heard  in  its  praise.  A  fellow-passenger  assured  us  it  is  far 
better  to  the  east,  in  Armagh,  Down,  and  Antrim,  but  I  be- 
gin to  fear  the  prosperity  of  Ireland  is  like  the  poor  man's 
treasure,  always  in  prospect,  or  like  the  bag  of  gold  hung 
at  either  end  of  the  rainbow,  fleeing  as  it  is  approached. 

Passing  Aughnacloy,  a  market-town,  containing  a  single 
street,  and  some  narrow  lanes,  a  church,  a  Catholic  chapel, 
and  meeting-houses  for  other  denominations — such  are  the 
designations  here — we  came  to  Ballygawley,  where  we  left 
the  stage,  and  took  a  car  to  Fintona.  The  lusty  guard 
tipped  his  hat  to  us,  and  asked  us  to  give  him  "something." 
As  he  had  done  us  no  service,  we  refused.  He  looked  an- 
gry and  began  to  bluster,  when  the  driver,  who  had  been 
very  polite  to  us,  answering  our  thousand  questions 
about  what  we  saw,  and  affording  us  a  good  deal  of  infor- 
mation about  the  country  and  the  people,  and  amusement 
with  his  Irishisms  and  "  Lord  Stagereen,"  whispered  to  him, 
and  all  was  right. 

While  waiting  for  the  car,  we  were  beset  by  numerous 
beggars.    One,  a  half-clad  woman,  not  much  above  middle 


AMERICA,   AN   ALMS  HOUSE. 


419 


age,  followed  us  into  the  hotel,  asking  us  to  give  "  poor 
Betty  a  ha'penny."    The  inn-keeper  seized  hold  of  her  and 
dragged  her  out,  as  though  she  had  been  a  brute.  She 
squalled,  and  begged,  and  threatened,  in  a  most  indecent 
manner,  using  language  too  base  and  profane  for  repeti- 
tion.   I  have  been  surprised  at  the  unfeelingness  manifested 
towards  the  miserable  wretches  who  infest  all  the  towns 
and  villages  of  this  country.    They  are  scorned  and  driven 
away  as  if  they  were  reptiles,  and  by  those  barely  a  grade 
above  them.    But  this  conduct  has  an  explanation  in  the 
condition  of  society,  the  distinctions,  oppressions,  and  con- 
sequent ignorance,  poverty,  and  degradation.    They  make 
beggary  the  business  of  their  lives.    They  become  a  race, 
a  beggar  bandit,  and  have  no  higher  aim  than  to  live  upon 
others  earnings  for  they  can  do  nothing  for  themselves. 
Multitudes  of  this  miserable  class  are  annually  transported 
to  our  shores  by  public  charity,  merely  to  get  rid  of  them. 
Our  large  cities  are  yearly  more  and  more  infested  with 
them.    Social  evils  do  not  stop  with  individuals  directly 
implicated  in  guilt.    They  are  diffusive,  spreading  their 
baneful  influences  like  a  mildew,  upon  the  whole  communi- 
ty.   In  our  country  we  suffer  severely  from  the  injuries  in- 
flicted upon  the  people  of  ihis  country,  and  it  becomes  an 
object  worthy  of  our  government  to  inquire  into  the  reme- 
dies for  these  evils.    It  would  be  wrong,  perhaps,  to  refuse 
to  admit  the  pauper  population  of  Great  Britain  into  our 
States — it  might  appear  uncharitable ;  but  it  will  become 
a  question  for  our  statesmen  to  solve,  whether  America  is 
to  be  made  the  alms-house  of  all  creation — whether  emi- 
grants shall  not  bring  something  more  than  their  skin  and 
bones,  and  rags,  and  dirt,  and  vermin,  in  order  to  gain  a 
residence,  and  be  adopted  as  citizens.    A  family,  neighbor- 
hood, or  town  would  not  be  satisfied — would  not  suffer  such 
a  state  of  things.    Why  should  a  nation  submit  to  such  an 
imposition  upon  good  nature  ?    England  is  going  to  some 
expense  to  ship  off  her  poor  to  Australia,  thinking  they 
can  be  supported  cheaper  there  than  at  home.    But  little 


420 


REBELS   PREFERABLE   TO  PAUPERS. 


will  be  done  in  that  way,  so  long  as  £4  will  send  them  to 
the  open  arms  of  Brother  Jonathan,  who  will  take  good 
care  of  them.  I  would  not  shut  the  doors  of  our  country 
against  foreigners ;  nor  against  the  poor  who  are  abandoned 
by  their  (un)  natural  guardians ;  but  I  would  have  a  proper 
discretion  used  about  the  terms  on  which  we  shall  adopt 
our  neighbor's  children  and  all  the  foundlings  in  creation. 
]  would  let  them  know  that  we  will  not  father  all  the  off- 
spring of  their  illicit  and  inhuman  intercourse  ;  that  they 
must  send  them  to  us  tolerably  clad,  decently  fed,  with 
enough  practical  knowledge  to  make  them  capable  of  self- 
support,  with  the  advantages  we  can  give  them.  Let  the 
standard  be  that  no  emigrants  shall  be  landed  except  such 
as  can  read  and  write,  and  have  some  knowledge  of  work, 
unless  too  young,  or  with  money  sufficient  to  support  them- 
selves till  they  can  learn  to  do  so.  The  time  was  when 
England  would  allow  no  artisan  to  come  to  us  from  that 
country,  for  fear  we  should  steal  some  of  their  trades.  We 
have  found  them  out,  and  grown  rich,  and  she  is  taking 
vengeance  by  sending  all  her  paupers  to  us  for  support. 
Her  political  offenders  we  would  take  off  her  hands,  willing- 
ly ;  for  they  know  some  thing  and  we  are  not  afraid  of  their 
radicalisms ;  I  would  respectfully  suggest  whether  it  would 
not  be  politic  and  humane  to  send  Messrs.  Mitchel,  O'Brien, 
Meagher,  O'Donohue,  and  others,  to  us  and  save  the  great 
expense  of  fitting  out  ships,  and  mariners,  and  military  sta- 
tions to  provide  for  their  safety  and  comfort.  We  will  use 
them  well,  and  their  wives  and  little  ones,  and  agree  they 
shall  do  no  mischief.  The  money  so  saved  would  help 
many  a  poor  Irishman  to  a  patch  of  earth  on  which  to  sup- 
port his  wife  and  children. 

"  Poor  Betty"  and  the  crowd  hung  about  the  door,  and 
when  we  came  out  to  mount  the  car,  she  redoubled  her  en- 
treaties with  such  vehemence  that  all  the  other  beggars 
were  put  to  shame.  The  landlord  asked  her  if  she  could'nt 
let  the  gentlemen  go  in  peace.  She  turned  to  him  a  look 
of  defiance  and  said,  "  And  would  ye  let  poor  Betty  stharve 


FIXT0XA. 


421 


ye  old  carlin  and  brute,  to  thrate  a  pour  woman  so.  The 
gintilmen  knoo  better  as  ye,  and  they  have  a  shoul  to  fale 
for  a  craytur  in  distress."  In  every  town  there  are  Jots  of 
idlers,  loafing  about,  who  are  pleased  with  any  thing  which 
breaks  the  tedium  of  their  vacancy,  and  excites  the  least 
degree  of  entertainment. 

On  the  hill  above  the  street  is  the  demesne  of  Sir  Hugh 
Stewart,  the  "  owner  of  the  town,"  and  an  extensive  tract 
about  it.  It  sounds  queer  to  be  told  that  this  man  or  that 
owns  a  whole  town  of  several  thousand  inhabitants,  and 
every  thing  around  it.  Were  it  so  generally  in  our  country, 
Anti-rentism  would  soon  work  a  revolution. 

The  road  to  Fintona  is  crooked,  and,  in  some  places  wild 
and  romantic  ;  in  others  very  beautiful,  bordered  by  rows 
of  trees,  and  occasionally  decent  cottages,  and  respectable 
farm  houses.  But  everv  now  and  then,  the  countrv  is  "  dis- 
figured"  bv  hamlets  of  miserable,  low  huts,  with  thatched 
roofs  and  everv  thing  slovenly  about  them.    The  face  of 

J  CD  J 

the  land  itself  is  less  beautiful  than  through  Monaghan.  con- 
taining  a  large  share  of  dreary  moor,  wet  bogs,  and  heather 
hills.  Industry,  however,  has  been  employed  to  some  ac- 
count, so  that,  on  the  whole,  this  region  compares  favorably 
with  most  other  parts  of  the  kingdom,  and  is  decidedly  in 
a  better  condition  than  some  portions  of  the  south  and 
west,  though  naturally,  far  less  beautiful  and  productive. 

We  drove  to  the  only  inn  in  the  town,  and  put  up  for  the 
night,  weary  and  willing  to  be  satisfied  with  such  accommo- 
dation as  we  could  find.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  we  might 
have  been  less  contented.  But  when  people  do  all  they 
know  with  the  means  they  have — the  ladies  give  up  the 
best  room  in  the  house,  it  is  not  well  to  complain.  The 
traveler  goes  to  see  more  than  to  improve,  the  world,  and 
should  be  content  to  view  things  as  they  are,  and  not  find 
fault  because  every  thing  is  not  as  he  would  have  it. 

May  28. — It  is  a  calm,  sweet  Sunday  morning.  There 
is  some  thing  beautiful  in  the  Christian  Sabbath.  Nature 
seems  more  quiet  and  serene  ;  the  sun  shines  brighter  ;  the 

36 


422 


SUNDAY. 


birds  sing  sweeter ;  the  grass  looks  greener ;  the  flower? 
bloom  fresher ;  and  every  body  appears  more  cheerful  and 
happy.  The  smile  of  God  is  upon  all  his  works.  The  pure 
in  heart  see  God,  and  delight  to  worship  at  his  holy  altar. 

I  see,  from  my  chamber,  multitudes  of  people  going  to 
early  mass,  in  squads  of  three  or  four,  seeming  quite  cheerful 
and  happy.  The  street  is  full  of  them.  I  always  admired 
the  devotion  of  the  Catholics.  I  have  seen  them  in  our 
city,  in  cold  mid-winter  mornings,  assemble  before  day- 
light, to  hear  the  service,  or  repeat  the  "  Pater  Nos- 
ters."  Sincerity  always  commands  respect,  and  should 
be  treated  generously,  however  much  we  may  deplore 
the  ignorance  and  superstition  some  times  connected 
with  it.  These  people  give  proof  of  their  honesty  and 
piety.  But  these  are  not  enough,  the  only  requisites  of  re- 
ligion. They  do  not  "  grow  in  grace,  and  in  the  knowledge 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ?"  Christianity  is  represented 
as  a  race,  and  all  are  required  to  run  in  it.  To  do  so,  a 
feeling  of  liberty  and  responsibility  is  necessary  for  every 
individual,  who  will  be  thus  stimulated  to  go  forward,  re- 
lying upon  God  and  his  own  exertions  for  success.  For 
not  having  been  so  taught,  Ireland,  the  church,  and  the 
world  now  suffer.  Blame  is  attached  to  other  times,  and 
circumstances  complained  of,  and  every  method  devised  to 
shirk  responsibility,  even  if  it  be  by  reproaching  the  provi- 
dence of  God  himself.  Coupled  with  the  submission  and 
quietism  insisted  on  by  the  church,  is  the  practical  doctrine 
of  a  virtual  fatality,  which  is  generally  cherished,  and  leads 
to  the  inactivity,  and  moral  and  social  dormancy  which 
every  where  prevails.  The  people  have  no  faith  in  any 
thing  better.  They  see  no  gleam  of  light,  no  Jacob's  lad- 
der for  their  ascent  to  a  better  condition.  A  dark  pall  is 
spread  all  over  them,  and  they  sit  down,  and  fold  their  arms 
in  sullen  despair,  and  rise  only  when  compelled  to  go 
to  their  tasks  of  work  or  prayer,  and  return  to  their 
scanty  meal  of  stir-a-bout,  or  potatoes,  and  pallet  of  straw. 
They  never  seek  to  rise.    They  have  no  faith,  no  heart, 


CASTLE  LODGE. 


123 


no  hope.  How  can  they  make  an  effort  ?  Submission, 
patient,  unmurmuring,  hopeless,  soul-killing  submission ! 
That  is  their  lesson  from  year  to  year,  and  every  day  of 
their  lives,  in  the  field  and  in  the  church ;  taught  alike  by 
policeman  and  beadle,  magistrate  and  priest.  Where  is 
Ireland's  hope  ?  Where  the  remedy  of  her  wrongs  ?  Her 
weary,  starved  children  turn  their  dim  eyes  and  cadaverous 
faces  towards  America.  But  if  they  take  their  priests  and 
their  prejudices,  their  ignorance  and  their  indolence  with 
them  there,  they  shall  gain  little  by  the  change  They  can 
lose  nothing — so  their  game  is  desperate,  as  far  as  home  is 
concerned.  They  can  not  be  worse;  they  may  be  better 
— so  they  submit  to  the  fate  which  compels  them  to  so. 
When  there,  they  must  be  taught  the  first  lessons  of  man- 
hood— to  be  free — to  think  and  act  for  themselves — to  do 
and  to  be  for  themselves — to  rise  above  servitude — to  de- 
spise submission  to  another's  will — and  then,  with  humility 
their  own,  engage  in  whatever  offers,  not  as  "  eye-servants/' 
but  from  principle,  ready  to  do  what  ever  is  honest,  know- 
ing that  such  is  honorable. 

While  at  breakfast,  we  received  a  call  from  the  kinsman 
of  my  friend,  who  invited  us  to  Castle  Lodge,  '"  a  neat  lit- 
tle cottage,  just  out  of  the  village,  standing  back  from  the 
road,  fronted  by  a  handsome  flower  and  culinary  garden, 
and  shaded  by  some  stately  trees,  with  a  lawn  spreading 
off  to  the  left,  and  a  hill  rising  in  the  rear.  Everv  thing: 
about  it  looks  neat,  genteel,  and  comfortable.  We  were 
glad  to  avail  ourselves  of  such  an  opportunity  to  refresh 
our  spirits  by  an  interchange  of  sentiments,  and  the  tokens 
of  friendship,  which  add  so  much  to  the  comforts  and 
charms  of  life. 

The  Surgeon  is  an  intelligent  man,  retired,  on  half-pay, 
from  the  naval  service,  in  which  he  spent  several  years  at 
different  stations  in  Europe,  Asia,  and  America,  of  a  kind 
disposition,  and  thoroughly  British  in  his  feelings.  He  ex- 
pressed the  loftiest  admiration  of  the  naval  prowess  of  his 
country,  and,  though  stationed  on  our  coast  during  a  part 


424 


RU1VDALE  LEASES. 


of  the  last  war,  had  no  particular  knowledge  of  certain  en- 
counters between  the  lion  and  the  eagle  ;  and,  as  guests, 
we  took  no  pains  to  refresh  his  memory.  We  were  more 
anxious  to  learri  his  views  of  the  condition  and  prospects 
of  Ireland,  the  cause  and  cure  of  her  miseries.  Upon 
these  topics  we  conversed  freely,  and  at  length.  He  spoke 
of  the  ignorance  and  misery  of  Ireland  in  the  severest 
terms,  and  attributed  all  to  the  wickedness  of  the  priests 
and  indolence  of  the  people,  called  them  lazy,  bigoted,  rest- 
less, ungovernable  ;  and  said  "  they  are  like  the  Canaanites, 
doomed  of  God,  to  extinction."  In  my  thoughts  I  added, 
and  the  English  are  like  the  Jews,  a  hard-hearted,  stiff- 
necked,  and  disobedient  nation,  most  highly  favored,  but 
most  cruelly  oppressive  in  the  use  of  their  privileges.  We 
questioned  him  till  the  subject  became  clear  to  my  mind. 
He  had  been  one  of  the  immense  number  hired  and  paid 
by  government  to  do  nothing  but  help  waste  the  energies 
of  the  nation.  After  a  few  years  service  in  patching  up 
broken  limbs,  and  extracting  lead  bullets,  he  retired  to  an 
easv  and  comfortable  life.  All  who,  like  him,  live  out  of 
the  public  soup  dish,  may  well  complain  of  those  who  jog- 
gle their  elbows. 

A  curious  expedient  is  resorted  to  in  this  country  to  se- 
cure the  payment  of  rents.  Large  tracts  of  lands  are  rented 
in  what  is  called  "  rundale"  or  "  partnership  holdings." 
The  land-owner,  or  large  middle-man,  induces  several  te- 
nants to  take  a  tract  in  common,  and  divide  and  work  it  to 
suit  themselves  ;  by  this  means  they  are  able  to  make  each 
one  jointly,  and  severally,  liable  for  the  whole  rent ;  so  that 
if  one  does  not  pay,  he  can  levy  on  the  property  of  the 
whole,  and  distrain  or  eject  at  pleasure.  In  short,  no  con- 
trivance which  avarice  can  suggest,  or  extortion  execute, 
is  wanting  to  wrench  from  the  people  the  last  farthing  to 
support  aristocratic  distinctions.  This  downward  course 
has  been  pursued  so  long,  that  both  owners  and  occupants 
have  become  miserable  together,  and  their  existence  is  their 
mutual  dependence.    One  can  not  rise  without  the  other, 


DECAY   OF  THE   LINEN  BUSINESS. 


425 


neither  can  sink  much  lower.  The  first  are  anxious  to  keep 
up  their  honorable  and  ancient  family  distinction,  the  other 
must  have  a  living,  or  it  can  not  be  done.  Most  estates  are 
heavily  incumbered,  and  mortgages,  by  chancery  right,  are 
always  more  oppressive  and  unfeeling  than  the  nominal 
owners.  Thus  a  double  curse  is  inflicted  on  the  common 
people.  I  have  before  suggested  that  Ireland  can  never 
prosper  till  this  whole  system  is  changed,  and  the  people 
permitted  to  hold  a  right  in  the  soil,  either  by  long  lease  or 
in  fee,  which  is  infinitely  better. 

An  other  cause  of  the  great  misery  in  the  north,  our  friend 
attributed  to  the  failure  of  the  linen  business,  by  the  intro- 
duction of  machinery  and  foreign  competition.  This  was 
formerly  the  principal  resource  of  this  part  of  the  country. 
Spinning  wheels  for  the  women,  and  looms  for  the  men, 
were  in  every  cabin  ;  now  they  are  rarely  seen.  Every 
two  weeks,  markets  were  held  in  all  large  towns,  where 
each  workman  brought  his  web,  and  each  woman  her  vara. 
The  cloth  was  sold  and  the  yarn  bought,  and  each  returned 
with  his  fortnight's  gains.  The  farmer  was  there  with  his 
flax,  the  merchant  with  his  cash,  and  all  was  life  and  pros- 
perity. Those  days  are  past.  Machinery  drives  spindles, 
and  shuttles  faster,  and  cheaper,  and  these  poor  spinners 
and  weavers  have  nothing  to  do.  Belfast,  with  a  few  thou- 
sand girls  and  boys'  makes  all  the  cloth,  at  a  cheap  rate, 
while  the  millions  before  employed  are  left  without  work, 
and  Englishmen  and  royalists  call  them  lazy.  Corpora- 
tions monopolize  the  whole  business,  and  individual  en- 
teprise  is  left  to  starve.  Belfast  thrives  while  the  interior 
towns  go  to  decay.  The  business  of  the  country  is  in- 
creased and  the  few  get  the  benefit,  while  the  masses  are 
made  worse.  "  But  this  need  not  be."  It  is,  and  you  must 
convince  these  people  that  "it  need  not  be." 

The  more  general  introduction  of  manufactories  might 
improve  the  country.  There  is  vast  water  power  on  the 
Shannon,  the  Lee,  the  Boyne,  the  Foyle,  at  Ballyshannon, 
at  Coloony,  at  Ballysydore,  at  Erris,  at  Galway  :  let  turned 


426 


THE   ESTABLISHED  CHURCH. 


upon  machinery ;  let  the  people  be  employed  ;  let  landlords 
come  home  and  take  care  of  their  farms  ;  and  those  who  do 
not  own  any  be  cut  off  from  their  pretences  ;  let  the  crown 
lands  be  offered  to  the  people,  as  a  reward  for  industry;  let 
the  bogs  be  drained,  and  waste  lands  be  reclaimed  ;  let  the 
immense  fisheries  be  no  longer  neglected,  nor  the  mines  un- 
worked  ;  in  short,  let  the  resources  of  Ireland  be  developed 
for  the  good  of  the  people ;  give  them  a  free  church,  and 
common  schools,  and  little  will  be  heard,  in  ten  years,  of 
the  ignorance,  misery,  indolence,  and  intimidation  of  the 
Celtic  race :  no  wail  of  wo,  nor  stench  of  misery  will  be 
wafted  over  this  fair,  and  beautiful  Isle  but  that  which 
comes  from  a  corrupt  and  dying  aristocracy. 

We  attended  church  at  eleven.  The  building  is  neat, 
and  comfortable,  much  like  ours  at  home,  except  a  pew  on 
each  side  of  the  desk,  elevated  a  step  or  two,  with  red  cur- 
tains about  them,  for  the  "  proprietors"  of  the  town.  The 
rest  are  on  a  level.  The  audience  was  small,  say  150,  half 
of  whom  were  well  clad,  the  rest  attired  in  the  costumes 
of  the  country.  The  sermon  was  very  good — on  love  as 
the  basis  of  all  true  religion  and  piety,  and  charity  as  the 
duty  of  the  Christian.  It  was  appropriate  to  a  collection 
taken  in  behalf  of  the  Tyrone  Orphan  Asylum,  which 
was  declared  to  be  "  unsectarian,  for  Catholics  and  Dissent- 
ers, as  much  as  for  Churchmen,  for  all  whom  misfortune 
has  overtaken."  I  was  glad  to  hear  that  announcement. 
Charity  should  know  no  limits.  The  blessed  spirit  of  Chris- 
tianity will  find  its  way  to  human  hearts  ;  it  will  rise  above 
all  prejudice,  and  breathe  life  and  love  every  where.  The 
age  of  exclusiveness  is  passing  away.  Old  forms  remain 
— they  are  no  more  than  shadows — the  chrysalid  invest- 
ments, no  longer  needed.  The  world  is  undergoing  the 
process  of  regeneration.  God,  in  humanity,  will  assert  his 
rightful  claim,  and  "  his  will  be  done  in  earth  as  in  heaven." 
Amen ! 

Returning,  we  noticed  the  shops  were  open  for  traffic,  as 
on  week  days ;  the  dram  shops  appeared  to  be  too  well  pa- 


A  CONVERSATION. 


427 


tronized.  Every  where  in  this  county  we  see  the  fearful 
words  emblazoned,  prophetic  of  misery  and  crime — "  Li- 
censed to  sell  beer  and  spirits  to  which  are  frequently 
added  "  wine  and  tobacco,"'  which  are  apt  to  keep  close 
company.  Here  is  an  other  prolific  cause  of  the  wretched- 
ness of  this  country.  Intemperance  is  the  parent  of  innu- 
merable vices  :  half  the  world's  misery  ;  and  tippling  is  the 
immediate  cause  of  intemperance.  So  long  as  govern- 
ments trifle  with  morality,  and  legalize  the  business  of 

^  '  CD 

making  drunkards,  by  selling  the  exclusive  privilege  for  a 
few  pieces  of  silver,  so  long  will  it  wear  an  air  of  respecta- 
bility, and  tempt  the  unwary,  beguile  the  simple,  and  besot 
the  foolish,  till  all  come  to  feel  something  of  its  diffusive 
curse.  The  evils  of  drinking  are  too  well  known  to  need 
description  ;  but  when  they  are  considered  in  connexion 
with  the  circumstances  of  the  people,  they  become  enor- 
mous. Jails  and  poor-houses  are  always  needed  where 
dram-shops  are  common  ;  and,  if  governments  will  license 
one,  they  must  support  the  others,  and  the  people,  who  con- 
sent to  both,  must  be  the  sufferers. 

While  sitting  at  the  hotel,  a  corpulent  man  rode  up,  in  a 
handsome  carriage,  and  saluted  an  other,  equally  sleek  and 
well-fed — a  magistrate — and  said,  **  Well,  Mitchel  is  sen- 
tenced to  fourteen  years'  transportation  ;  I  have  it  in  a  let- 
ter." "  Good,"  said  the  other,  with  a  sneer  of  triumph  to- 
wards the  men  standing  by ;  "  we  may  now  hope  for  quiet, 
if  O'Brien  and  Meagher  follow."  "Not  so  quiet  as  ye'd 
bay  afther  thenkin',"  said  several,  as  the  gentlemen  rode 
away.  A  long  and  exciting  conversation  followed,  in  true 
Irish  style,  with  many  expressions  of  patriotism. 

"  An'  Misther  Mitchel  was  no  Catholic,"  said  one,  "  boot 
a  Protestant  an'  a  Presbytarian." 

"  The  divil  a  bit  does  an  Englishman  mind  a  Presbvta- 
rian,  ony  longer,  ony  hoo ;  bad  luck  to  them  ;"  said  a  lean 
old  man,  in  drab  breeches,  with  a  blue  coat  and  slouched  hat. 

"An'  it's  time  all  thrue-Irishmin  should  spake  frin'ship  to- 
gither,  an'  lave  aloone  all  aboot  Ribbon-min  an'  Orange- 


428 


OMAGH  STRABANE. 


min,"  added  a  sedate  man  ;  "  we  are  inimies  too  long,  and 
the  Lord  has  given  us  no  pace." 

"  That  same  is  thrue  what  ye  spake,  Misther  O'Neil,  ive- 
ry  word  of  it."  said  an  other  ;  "  an'  there'll  be  a  mighty  little 
moore  throuble  oov  that  sort  in  these  parts.  We  must  sthand 
till  each  ither,  or  we'll  all  be  sent  till  banishmint  togither." 

"Or  stharved  at  home,  which  is  more  likely,"  said  a  thin, 
pale  man.  "An'  what  would  they  be  afther  doin  with  all 
oov  us  there,  Misther  O'Flannigan  ?" 

"  Not  a  divil  a  bit  do  they  care  foor  us,  an'  they  can  git 
us  oof  our  tinant-right,  and  drive  us  froom  the  coounthry. 
We  may  go  till  Amiriky,  or  Botany  Bay,  or  the  divil,  and 
they'll  care  not  a  pinny." 

May  18. — An  early  ride  brought  us  to  Omagh,  the  capi- 
tal of  Tyrone,  a  smart  town,  with  a  wide  street,  and  the 
everlasting  barracks,  jail,  and  work-house,  with  the  usual 
show  of  dwellings,  business,  and  poverty — men  waiting  to  be 
hired,  and  women  to  beg.  Thence,  by  coach,  to  Strabane, 
through  a  dreary  moorland,  broken  with  heather  hills,  and 
here  and  there  a  smiling  valley,  broad  strath,  deep 
glens,  and  small  streams  with  poetic  names.  The  only 
town  passed  is  Newtown  Stewart,  with  a  castle  in  ruins, 
and  the  house  where  James  II.  slept  one  night—a  valuable 
relic !  Strabane  is  a  large,  bustling,  dirty  town  of  old  rook- 
eries, huddled  together  in  disorder,  entirely  the  property  of 
one  man — the  Marquis  of  Abercorn,  who  owns  all  this  re- 
gion, much  of  which  is  in  a  miserable  condition,  though 
some  parts  show  signs  of  improvement.  A  canal  admits 
small  vessels  from  the  Foyle,  and  a  railroad  connects  it 
with  Londonderry. 

Londonderry  is  an  old,  important,  and  delightfully  situa- 
ted town.  Its  history  goes  back  to  the  6th  century,  when 
St.  Colomb  founded  a  monastery  here,  since  which  it  has 
been  the  scene  of  many  stirring  events,  one  of  which  is  re- 
corded on  "  Walker's  Testimonial,"  standing  in  the  highest 
part  of  the  city,  in  these  words: — "This  monument  was 
erected  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  Rev.  George  Walker, 


LONDONDERRY. 


429 


who,  aided  by  the  garrison  and  brave  inhabitants  of  this 
city,  most  gallantly  defended  it  through  a  protracted  siege, 
from  the  7th  Oct.  1688,  O.  S.  to  the  12th  Aug.  following, 
against  an  arbitrary  and  bigoted  monarch,  leading  an  army 
of  upwards  of  20,000  men,  many  of  whom  were  foreign 
mercenaries  ;  and  by  such  valiant  conduct  in  numerous  sor- 
ties, and  by  patiently  enduring  extreme  privations  and  suf- 
ferings, successfully  resisted  the  beseigers,  and  preserved  for 
their  posterity  the  blessings  of  civil  and  religious  liberty." 
The  names  of  Carries,  Leake,  and  Browning,  are  inscribed  on 
the  east  side,  Baker,  Mitchelburn,  and  Murray,  on  the  west. 

We  ascended  the  tower  of  the  cathedral,  which  over- 
looks the  city,  and  a  wide  extent  of  country.  In  the 
vestibule  we  saw  a  bomb-shell  which  was  thrown  into  the 
church  yard,  in  1689,  by  the  French,  containing  proposals 
for  peace.  It  is  mounted  on  a  pedestal  and  placed  in  a 
conspicuous  position.  We  were  also  shown  two  flag-staffs 
taken  from  the  French,  which  are  displayed  back  of  the 
high  altar.  We  also  visited  a  primary  school,  which  for  or- 
der and  advancement  came  vastly  short  of  such  institutions 
at  home. 

We  walked  entirely  round  on  the  city  wall ;  in  some  places 
it  runs  along  the  brow  of  the  hill,  in  others  passes  through 
the  town,  but  every  where  presents  objects  of  attraction. 
While  standing  over  the  west  gate  we  saw  an  old  woman, 
covered  with  a  brown  cloak,  sitting  on  a  hand  barrow,  eating 
dry  meal.  1  went  down  and  bought  a  loaf  and  slipped  into 
her  lap.  She  looked  at  it  with  astonishment,  and,  turning 
her  head,  said,  "  May  the  good  Lord  bliss  yer  honor  and 
save  your  shoul."  We  stepped  away,  and  soon  a  set  of 
vagrants  gathered  about  her,  envying  her  good  fortune. 
An  old  man  and  a  boy,  both  in  rags,  soon  came  and  took 
up  the  barrow  and  carried  her  away. 

The  public  and  private  buildings  in  and  about  Deny  are 
very  respectable.  The  "  Bishop's  Palace,"  a  large  mansion, 
with  fine  grounds  about  it,  in  the  heart  of  the  city,  does  not 
look  like  "  bearing  the  cross."   The  Glynn-school,  an  unsec- 


430 


LEAVE   FOR  SCOTLAND. 


tarian  institution,  college,  lunatic  asylum,  and  barracks,  are 
situated  on  the  sloping  hills  at  some  distance  from  the  city. 
The  city  stands  upon  a  high  bluff*,  or  tongue  of  land,  with 
deep  valleys  running  on  either  side,  beyond  which  hills  rise 
high,  the  sides  of  which  are  adorned  with  elegant  dwellings, 
gardens,  and  fields.  Lough  Foyle  opens  before  it,  which  ex- 
tends to  the  sea.  It  is  a  beautiful  location.  From  Diamond 
square,  in  which  stands  the  Town  Hall,  four  streets  radiate 
to  the  four  gates.  The  city  looks  old,  but  it  is  a  place  of 
considerable  business.  There  are  many  scenes  of  poverty 
and  wTetchedness  mingled  with  the  tokens  of  wealth  and 
comfort.  It  is  of  far  less  importance,  as  a  commercial 
town,  now,  than  formerly,  but  it  still  carries  on  considera- 
ble trade  with  England,  Scotland,  and  America,  in  the  ex- 
port of  cattle,  produce,  and  people,  and  the  importation  of 
lumber,  corn,  sugars,  and  so  forth,  for  the  interior. 

Having  occupied  the  day  and  seen  all  the  wonders  of  the 
town,  we  decided  to  abandon  our  plan  of  visiting  Antrim, 
Down  and  Belfast — being  tired  of  a  land  so  full  of  wrongs 
and  miseries — so  despoiled  of  its  beauties  and  blessings,  by 
injustice  and  social  neglect — and  went  on  board  a  steamer 
bound  to  Glasgow,  at  four  o'clock.  Here  an  other  picture 
was  presented  which  serves  to  illustrate  the  method  of  busi- 
ness, and  manners  of  life  in  this  country.  The  main-deck 
was  crowded  full  of  cattle,  (160  head,)  the  forward  cabin 
and  quarter  deck  with  steerage  passengers,  and  piles  of 
freight.  Towards  night  I  visited  the  cabin,  and  such  a 
scene  of  wretchedness — no  beds,  few  seats  except  the  floor, 
only  one  dim  taper,  rags,  dirt,  smoke,  profanity,  scolding, 
laughing,  singing — a  complete  pandemonium.  Once  they 
were  all  driven  on  deck  to  collect  the  fare.  One  by  one 
they  passed  the  clerk.  Some  protested  they  had  no  money. 
One  old  woman  held  out  stoutly,  till  words  waxed  warm, 
and  severe  threats  were  given,  when  a  little  girl  offered  to 
pay  a  part ;  then  an  other  wrangle,  and  an  other  3d.,  and  so 
on  till  the  last  farthing  was  paid.  At  night  the  deck  was 
covered  with  a  mass  of  sleepers,  nestling  together  in  strange 


THE   GIANT  S  CAUSEWAY. 


431 


confusion  ;  parents  and  children,  men  and  women,  young 
and  old,  indiscriminately  packed  together.  In  one  squad  I 
noticed  a  mother  and  six  children.  The  decks  were  wet 
and  few  had  any  covering.  The  people  seemed  to  be  as 
little  cared  for  as  the  cattle.  The  former  are  going  to  seek 
work  in  Scotland  ;  the  latter  to  the  Edinburgh  market. 
We  succeeded  in  obtaining  decent  berths,  as  there  are  but 
three  or  four  cabin  passengers,  and  so  have  a  comfortable 
prospect  before  us. 

We  stopped  off  Portstewart  long  enough  to  exchange  pas- 
sengers with  two  small  boats,  which  came  out  to  us  for  that 
purpose ;  and  also  at  Portrush,  the  usual  landing  place  for 
persons  who  come  to  visit  the  Giant's  Causeway.  We  had 
intended  to  land  here,  till  advised  in  Derry  that  we  should 
see  the  wonders  of  the  coast  to  the  best  advantage  from  the 
water.  The  Cliffs  already  appeared  on  our  right,  illumina- 
ted by  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  On  a  projecting  rock 
overhanging  the  sea,  stood  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  castle. 
A  rocky  barrier,  over  which  the  breakers  foamed  in  wild 
commotion,  stretched  directly  across  our  path.  Several 
naked  islets  lay  on  our  left.  We  dashed  through  the  foam- 
ing waves  by  a  narrow  inlet,  and  were  soon  in  a  bay  com- 
paratively calm,  and  directly  before  the  Cliffs,  and  the  Caves 
of  Partcoon  and  Dunkerry.  The  scene  was  grand  and  the 
moment  exciting.  The  whole  line  of  this  magnificent  coast 
stretched  along  our  right.  The  shore  for  four  or  five  miles, 
is  scooped  out  into  numerous  little  bays,  from  which  cliffs 
resting  on  colonnades  of  columnar  basalt,  rise  abruptly  to 
the  height  of  300  or  400  feet. 

We  were  soon  directly  in  front  of  the  "  Causeway,"  the 
wonder  of  my  geographical  studies  ;  of  which  I  obtained  a 
perfect  view  by  help  of  the  Captain's  glass.  Ranges 
of  columns,  placed  one  above  an  other,  formed  the  wall  of 
the  bay,  interlaid,  with  a  horizontal  strata  of  earth  or  rock, 
of  a  lighter  hue.  From  the  top  of  these,  the  green  lawn 
ascends  back  to  the  plain  above.  The  Causeway  itself  is 
formed  of  numerous  basaltic  columns,  of  various  sizes  and 


432  THE  GIANT.— FAREWELL. 

length,  placed  one  above  an  other,  and  perfectly  articulated 
in  a  horizontal  direction.  It  may  be  300  feet  wide,  and 
descends,  by  uneven  steps,  from  the  height  of  25  feet  at  the 
foot  of  the  cliffs,  towards  the  sea,  till  it  dips  under  the  water. 
Of  the  length  towards  us  I  could  not  judge — the  whole  area 
may  cover  two  acres.  On  a  projecting  pedestal,  part  way 
up  the  little  promontory  from  which  the  Causeway  extends, 
is  a  curious  formation  of  rock,  which,  by  a  little  help  of  the 
imagination,  presents  the  image  of  a  huge  man.  This  is 
called  the  "  Giant,"  and  is  as  perfect  as  the  "  Old  Man  of 
the  mountains,"  at  the  Franconia  Notch,  or  the  man's  face 
at  Breakneck,  on  the  Hudson,  before  it  was  mutilated. 
The  tradition  is,  that  giants  undertook  to  build  a  bridge 
across  the  channel,  to  Scotland,  but  the  Fates  became  en- 
raged, destroyed  their  works,  and  turned  their  leader  into 
this  monster  image.  It  certainly  presents  a  grotesque  ap- 
pearance, and  forms  an  object  of  great  curiosity.  It  can 
be  seen  only  from  the  water.  The  Aird's  Snout,  the  Shep- 
herd's Path,  the  theatre,  the  organ,  the  ruins  of  Dunseve- 
rick,  on  the  summit  of  a  naked,  isolated  rock,  which  dates 
back  of  history,  were  severally  pointed  out  to  us  as  we 
passed  along,  each  attracting  special  attention,  and  render- 
ing this  coast  an  object  of  intense  interest  and  admiration. 
The  whole  suggested  to  me  the  ruins  of  a  gigantic  city  of 
massive  structures,  fronted  by  immense  colonnades ;  and,  as 
such,  seemed  not  inappropriate  as  an  outpost  of  this  re- 
markable Island. 

But  the  sun  has  gone  to  his  rest  on  the  bosom  of  the  sea; 
the  dark  shades  are  gathering  fast  in  the  little  bays ;  the 
heavy  clouds  are  hanging  about  the  drapery  of  night, 
through  whose  folds  gleams  the  northern  twilight,  which,  at 
this  season,  does  not  wane  into  complete  darkness  ;  the 
green  hills  gradually  recede  from  my  view,  and,  with  min- 
gled joy  and  regret,  I  bid  farewell  to  the  beautiful  but  un- 
fortunate Emerald  Isle. 


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